Skyrim: Azureborn
by T-man42
Summary: They were warned long ago, that when the Gates of Oblivion were opened, and when the sons of Skyrim spilled their own blood, their world would end in fire. But hope still yet burns for Tamriel, and a hero not from their world, clad in crimson and weilding terrible power, may be the champion that they need. But whoes side will he choose? (Rating may go up in later chapters)
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Blazblue or the Elder Scrolls series. All related characters and elements are trademarks of Arc Systems Works and Bethesda Game Studios respectively. This work of fiction is done for simple fun and not as a form of monetary gain in any way or form. Thank you and enjoy reading.**

 **Author's Notes** **: Hellllooooo ! This is T-man42, formally known as Guest42 in some comment sections. Well, wow, never thought I'd actually get the nerves to actually write a fan fiction, let alone try to put it on this site, but hey there's a first time for everything (he he).**

 **Well this will be my first attempt at writing on this site, and I know I may be rusty as hell but that's why I am also eager to hear feedback from some of you viewers so I can improve my writing and get this brain child of mine a-rollin** **on the tracks to improvement to entertain you guys. All reviews are welcome, especially critiques. Well without further a due, enjoy.**

"Talking"

'Thinking'

" **Dragon/Daedric speech"**

 _"Flashback/ Passage from book"_

" _ **Different Dialect" (i.e. Dovakiin, Zul, ect.)**_

* * *

 **-Prologue-**

The city of Riften, one of the nine holds of Skyrim, is known far and wide for many things. From its crossed swords and purple colored insignia, its plentiful fish trade due to the city's location being built on the eastern shore of Lake Hornrich, with the Treva River flowing into it to add to its bounty of edible fish. It is even known for the fact that many of the city's dwellings are actually settled in the lake, elevated by wooden pillars to further allow the river to cut into the city and allow further gains from the lake.

This also gives Riften another reason of interest to the citizens of Skyrim, due to the fact that its close proximity to the lake always shrouds the city in a thick blanket of fog, giving it a gloomy feel to its infrastructure.

All of these features have been known to be associated with the city whenever the Riften is brought up in idle conversation, but perhaps the most famous, or rather infamous, aspect that Riften is known for far and wide in Skyrim would be for its deep rooted and long standing criminal underground and its various hideaways tucked within the lower walkways of the city.

It is within one such hideout, after entering the old Ratway in the city's lower walkway, and descending deep into the ancient sewers of this city would one encounter a cesspool of crime and villainy. Descending deeper still past this underground meeting of thugs and cutthroats, is where one would come upon the most secretive part of this city of sin; the Ratway Warrens.

Here, in the darkest and dampest part of the underground sewers, is wherein lie homes only befitting those who wish to be forgotten by the world, and ensure that they are not found by those who seek them. It is a part of the Ratway that no sane person, and certainly for no law abiding citizen of the Empire, would dare call, for all its rot and filth of these dwellings, their home unless they had no other sanctuary left to retreat to in the world. It is here, to the farthest corner to the left, and deeply embedded into the cold and old stones, that one such desperate soul resides.

* * *

Protected by a thick and impenetrable iron door, reinforced by locks, chains, and heavy bolts, did this poor soul hide himself from the rest of the world.

His room, though quite small for a dwelling befitting someone of his nature, was well enough for what needs he warranted. A small cooking station was placed to the lower left of the room, the embers of the fire from his last meal still glowing faintly, with barrels of ale stacked next to it, of which half were drained dry by his ever increasing nerves. To the lower right of his room is where his bed was nestled against the wall, and at is foot a small trunk that held what humble clothes he brought with him, a small cupboard to the left bed side to hold candles for late night reading.

Simple and quaint, just as this individual preferred, with no added decorations to be seen. No trophies, no paintings, no tapestries or pointless knickknacks decorated the walls to catch ones attention, but it was what was in the upper right corner of the room that would show one the true nature of the individual of this humble, broken home.

A large, deep red, and apparently heavy, oak desk lay facing towards the left wall, and with a large bookcase just behind and to the right of said desk, filled to the brim with books, tomes, scrolls, ancient texts, and multiple parchment and inkwells that would make any scholar prepared to scribe a text worthy of being eternally stored in the Royal Libraries. The desk itself was in a similar state to that of the bookcase, with parchment strewn about every inch of its surface, multiple inkwells, long since dry, scattered about, with one particular inkwell turned on its side and teetering on the edge of the desk.

All of this controlled (?) chaos within this particular corner of the room would indicate that this individual is a scholar of some sort, working to crack some enigmatic riddle of massive magnitude, with many an hour poured into solving said endeavor. Now though, after what appears to have been endless hours of hair pulling and ancient text deciphering, this enigmatic individual now lay seated behind his desk, no longer scribbling interconnected notes or trying to create a greater mess of parchment and ink in his work station. No, now this soul lay firmly seated to his chair behind his desk, back hunched and face deep within the confines of a particularly weathered book, and holding it with such force that his knuckles had long since turned white.

The book itself was nothing extraordinary, lacking any letters on its cover or even on its spine. Its cover also lacked any color that would grab a reader's attention and warrant their interest, settling for a solid, dull grey all around with no added colors. The only detail it did have was that on the cover it had a symbol that appeared to be some form of silver dragon in a diamond formation, with its horns and the upper tips of its triangular wings forming the upper point, and it's zigzagging and spade tip tail, along with the lower points of its wings, completing the lower half of the diamond formation.

Unremarkable as its cover may suggest, disregarding the dragon symbol, it was the knowledge that lay within the old, worn parchment of the tome that held this individuals attention. Countless hours he spent toiling over reading an deciphering multiple tomes, scrolls, and books in his acquired library, determined to find the answer to his elusive dilemma, and now it was this very book that held the answer he sought. More specifically it was what was written as the final passage of the tome that gave him his long sought answer, while at the same time filling him with such dread that he had never known.

It read as such:

 _"It is often said to originate in an Elder Scroll, although it is sometimes also attributed to the ancient Akaviri. Many have attempted to decipher it, and many have also believed that its omens had been fulfilled and that the advent of the "Last Dragonborn" was at hand. I make no claims as an interpreter of prophecy, but it does suggest that the true significance of Akotosh's gift to mortal kind has yet to be fully understood._

 _When **Misrule** takes its place in the **eight corners of the world**_

 _When the **Brass Tower** walks and **Time is** **reshaped**_

 _When the **Thrice-Blessed** fail and the **Red Tower** trembles_

 _When the **Dragonborn Ruler** loses his throne, and the **White Tower** falls_

 _When the **Snow Tower** lies sundered, **kingless** , bleeding_

 _The **World-Eater** wakes, and the **Wheel** turns upon **the Last Dragonborn**."_

Upon reading the last sentence within the book did this man lean back, place the book down, and released a sigh of both acceptance and sadness. With his face no longer buried within his book one would now be able to see the features this man, illuminated by the single candle still burning by his side.

He was a man of advanced age, as indicated by his receding white hair and equally white beard on his squared jaw. His face was weathered, tanned, and riddled with wrinkles, a testament to both his age and his many adventures in his youth. But of his features it was his eyes that would catch ones attention, eyes of steel grey that, even in his advanced age, still shined with clarity and a burning desire of a man half his age and twice his strength.

Now though the flames in his eyes seem to have…dwindled. Upon reading the last entry in his book the shine in his eyes shifted, for once the shined with strength and resolution they now held sadness, dread, and hopelessness.

"We were warned," he said. "We were warned so long ago. When the gates of Oblivion were opened we should have seen it as a sign that the end was near."

His gaze shifted until he was staring to the moss ridden roof of his dwelling.

"Now another part of this prophecy has been fulfilled, with the sons of Skyrim now spilling their own blood in this petty war."

While his eyes still focused on the ceiling, he began to recall a dream that he would have each and every night before he set out to find the answer to his self asked question. No, maybe it was not just a dream, but a vision of what was to come.

* * *

In this vision he stood alone atop a barren mountain, the sun shadowed by grey clouds, and whatever meager rays of sunlight slipped past the clouds would only illuminate a barren plain far below the mountain that stretched for miles around. All at once the land would be plunged into darkness, and in an attempt to find the source of this eclipse would this man look to the sky, only to know what true fear is upon discovering the source of the eclipse.

Great black wings, larger than any tower, stopped any light from slipping past and reaching the earth. Large, spiraling horns adorned the head of this beast, large enough to skewer four men at once. But it was the eyes of this beast that struck such fear into him. Its large, crimson, flaming eyes that seemed to stare into his very soul, eyes that seemed to cruelly revel in the fear it made him feel…

* * *

His eyes snapped open and, instead of staring at a fearsome beast he was once more staring at the ceiling of his home. Questioning himself on exactly when he had wandered off into his own mind he immediately remembered what had caused him to think of that specific dream, and sighed.

"I had tried to warn them long ago of what was to come, but they refused to listen," he solemnly stated. "They did not believe me, and now the truth will reveal itself. And when it does it shall do so in fire and death. But…" he said, and with something close to hope flashed once more in his eyes, "there is one they fear."

He reached for the old book once more, flipping franticly through its pages until it landed on the sketch of a warrior of sorts, his back to the reader and valiantly facing a winged beast, shield held firm in one hand while the other holding aloft a shining blade. This is what this soul was looking for, and the hope in his eyes began to burn brighter as he began to murmur to himself.

"In their tongue he is named dovakiin; Dragonborn!" he proudly proclaimed and his heart began to soar at the idea of one who would be able to turn the tide of the coming darkness…only for it to shatter upon remembering one crucial flaw in this hope.

"Or at least," he began to sadly say ",There would have been, had those with dragon blood in their veins not died along side Emperor Uriel Septim VII during the Oblivion Crisis so long ago." Hopes crushed, this desperate soul leaned forward and buried his face in his hands and began to do something that he had not done in some time. He prayed.

"Divines, please hear my prayers. I do not know which of you to ask, or how to request such a favor, but please hear my plea. We need a miracle to turn back the coming darkness, a shield to protect us from its coming wrath or a blade to end its tyranny. Please, we need a champion."

He did not know if the divines did hear him or if they cared, but it was all he said because now that the answer to this calamity was thought to be an impossibility it was the only thing he had left to offer the world; hope.

* * *

Unbeknown to this poor soul it would seem that his prayer was already being answered by forces that were already set in motion. Perhaps the Divines truly did hear his plea and felt pity for the world and answered him. Perhaps fate was already working its wonders before his prayer was even asked for. Or even still it could all have been by mere chance that led to an answer to his prayer.

Either answer to this seemingly divine intervention did not truly matter. What did matter was that it was answered, and that all of Tamriel would now, and forever, in its history remember this day as the day that a legend would arrive to the world of Mundus. A legend clad in a coat of crimson who would sweep all of Skyrim's evils away with the azure flames of a hero, and set in motion moments that would echo throughout the history of Skyrim, the Empire, and beyond.

The Wheel of Fate is turning, and now it turns to the advent of the Last Dragonborn, a warrior not of Tamriel, but who would one day call it his home.

Rebel One. Fight!

* * *

 **Authors Note: Weeeeeeeellll…here you guys go. I gotta say that this particular crossover has been dancing around my head since, ugh, 2016 I think it was, back when I left a review on StormVII's, another fan fiction author, story about what he thought about this idea, but I never got around to writing it. Mostly because I had never written a story like this before, but after some time, and seeing that someone else already beat me to the punch line of making a Blazblue and Skyrim crossover, this being Yami584, I decide what the hell and gave it my best shot. Now I will probably update this fanfic not quite as often as I'd want since I'll usually be using a library computer for most of this till I can afford my own laptop, but I promise that I will continue this story and never abandon it. Well thanks for reading, and shout out to StormVII and Yami584. You guys should really check out their works because they are freakin' amazing with their Blazblue stories.**

 **Well till next time mates!**

 **P.s. When I loaded this chapter i had to use my phone so if there is any mistakes i would gladly like to hear your feedback. Thanks. ;-)**


	2. Chapter 1: New World, New Problems

**Disclaimer: I do not own Blazblue or the Elder Scrolls series. All related characters and elements are trademarks of Arc Systems Works and Bethesda Game Studios respectively. This work of fiction is done for simple fun and not as a form of monetary gain in any way or form. Thank you and enjoy reading.**

 **Author's Notes: Hello again. This is T-man42 coming back for Chapter 2 of the Skyrim: Azureborn story. Sorry it took a while yall, still getting the hang on making the flow of the story go along the way I want it without making it repetitive. Well without further ado, enjoy chapter two (hey that rhymed, he he.)**

"Talking"

'Thinking'

" **Dragon/Daedric Speech"**

Flashback/ Passage from book

" **Different Dialect "** (i.e. **Dovakiin** **,** **Zul,** **est**.)

{Different Scene}

[Point of View change]

* * *

 **-Chapter One: New World, New Problems-**

Nothing. That's all that surrounded him in the Boundary, absolutely nothing. Of course when one seemingly erases themselves from ever existing, both physically and from the memories of all whom knew him, absolutely nothing was to be expected.

'Still,' this lone soul thought to himself "If I had known that it would be this boring I would have brought, I don't know, a book or something." Though after his thought he remembered that while he drifted in the endless void he was incapable of moving, so any book he would have brought with him would have been rendered useless since he would be unable to turn the pages.

Paralyzed and drifting in the dark with no form of entertainment this lonely soul began to let his mind wander to how he had ended up in this particular predicament in the first place. Starting all the way to the very beginning of it all, his childhood.

* * *

His drift down memory lane took him back towards his humble beginnings. Of how he lived in a small church in the middle of nowhere, living peacefully alongside his two younger siblings and the matron of the church. True, most days required hard work on their parts, and the difficulties that arose with his youngest sister Saya's frail body, and his younger brother Jin's jealous tendencies, had posed some difficulties in their everyday lives but for the most part they lived peaceful and stress free lives alongside the Matron. A happy life, he might add.

Then came the fire that changed everything.

He still remembers it clearly, down to the last second, like how the moment that he saw smoke coming from the direction of his home he had abandoned his task of fetching a bucket of water from a nearby stream and ran as fast as his feet could carry him back, praying that what he believed was happening was just a dream.

He remembered reaching his home, seeing how flames furiously licked the inside and sent his dwelling alight with blazing red and glowing orange. An inferno that sprung from the very heart of his beloved home

He remembered how he had desperately tried to enter the blazing dwelling in a feeble attempt to save his loved ones. How he had attempted to claw and dig his way through the burning wreckage, screaming his sibling's names and trying to find the Matron and see if she had made it out alive. Burned and blistered hands were his only replies.

He remembered how after minutes of failed digging he had retreated from the flames, only to spot his brother Jin some distance away with his back to the flames. He had raced to him to see if he was alright but noticed that he had something clutched in his hands and an unnerving smile plastered on his face. Any attempt that he had tried to pry answers out of him of the whereabouts of Saya or the Matron were only met with fits of hysterical giggles and that dammed unwavering, unnerving smile.

Then he remembered the pain. Oh it did not register at first, since he was still in total shock of the church being lit aflame, but he remembered only feeling a strong tugging sensation coming from his right arm. As he looked down to see why it had felt that way he only found a bloody stump where his arm used to be, while said arm was found on the ground not far from him, dark red blood already surrounding it where it fell. Only then after having it click in his head that his arm was not where it should be did the agonizing pain come crashing down upon him, so intense that it brought him down to his knees. He still recalled how he had feebly attempted to stop the flow of crimson from his stump, only to continuously fail and see how it began to pool around him.

Then came the laughter, that cursed laughter that would continue to haunt his dreams for years. He had looked up thinking that it was Jin who laughed, but was instead met with the being that would be the bane of his existence in the years to come. A glowing green specter with horrid glowing gold eyes and a twisted smile that was the result of watching his suffering. Then…blissful darkness.

From there he continued to traverse the stream of his memory to when he had awoken from his horrible ordeal. Tired and bruised he had discovered that the only thing that had remained of his home was nothing but embers and ash, and his siblings and the Matron nowhere in sight. He remembered how he had felt devastated, but when he raised his hands to wipe away his tears he had discovered something surprising. Instead of seeing a bloody and horrid stump he had instead found that he miraculously had a new right arm, though his new appendage was as pitch black as a starless night and heavily bound by straps. As he asked himself where it had come from he was surprised when he had heard someone congratulating him on coming back to the land of the living.

As he had turned around to see who it was he was greeted by the strangest sight so far. It was a large black and white cat dressed in a yellow hooded coat with large paw shaped sleeves and had what appeared to be two swords strapped on his back. This strange cat then introduced himself as being named Jubei, and stated that he was one of the legendary six heroes form the Dark War of a hundred years ago, who had helped in killing the neigh unstoppable monster, the Black Beast. He had told him how he had helped rescue him while he was hanging between life and death and that from that day forward he would take him under his wing as his apprentice, but that first he needed to know his name. Seeing as he now had no home to call his own he decided to humor this cat and tell him the name that the Matron christened him while he lived with her…Ragna.

Ragna recalled how after they had gotten the pleasantries out of the way he had decide to sate a certain curiosity and did something that he would later regret in his life; rub his new master's ears. While he had enjoyed rubbing them Jubei had kindly asked that he bend over a bit (which should have raised a few red flags in his mind now that he thought about it) and, as he foolishly complied, was promptly rewarded with a harsh smack to the head from his teacher that sent him back to dream land. But hey if you woke up to a strange talking and walking cat of course the first thing you would do would be to pet his soft ears, consequence be dammed!

Well needless to say that when he came two the second time he decided to keep his hands to himself and listen to his master as he began to explain exactly what happened to his family and why it had happened. His explanation began on how his new right arm was a certain relic called an Azure Grimoire, an extremely powerful-if not the most powerful-relic of the Dark Wars that hand almost unlimited potential in absorbing and using an energy source named seither. It had apparently been hidden beneath the church he lived in by the sister who took care of them, and he had acquired it when, as he slowly bleed out, somehow crawled his way back to the church and had it become one with him, replacing the missing arm. It had also coincidentally turned his hair white and his right eye a deep red, contrasting his still green left eye.

His master then went on how the attack must have been organized by the supposed leader of the world spanning government known as the Novus Orbis Librarium, or N.O.L. for short. A collective government that controlled the creation and use of magic tools known as Ars Magus and Ars Armagus's, essentially monopolizing them and using force if necessary to maintain this control. This leader, who pulled the strings and manipulated the government's actions to fit his needs, was known as Yuuki Terumi.

As his master finished speaking he remembered the rage that filled him and that now he had a name to aim it all towards. As he began to plan how he could gain revenge on those who took his family away both he and his master were surprised when a well-mannered voice bid them greetings.

It was the first time that he had met her, but it would not be the last in the years to come.

Rachel Alucard, a.k.a. Bunny leech, a.k.a. The Biggest Pain In His Ass. A neigh immortal vampire who had the appearance of a child with crimson eyes, pale white skin, and golden hair tied in pigtails with two overly large ribbons giving her the appearance of rabbit ears, thus Rabbit was his go to name for her. She also had a taste for gothic styled dresses, tea, roses, and a never ending need to annoy him at every opportunity she would get, and was accompanied in her endovers by two familiars-a fat flying pink bat named Gii and an equally fat black cat named Nago. Oh, and last but not least her ever dutiful butler Valkenhayn R. Hellsing.

Though looking back, and being honest with himself, despite their rough start and the love-hate relationship they would develop in the coming years-with their constant bickering that involved Rachel's sophisticated snarks with witty retorts and his simple but all around useful comebacks of "screw you," and favorite middle finger-and her tendency to attack him with lightning, he could honestly call her his only friend that he had starting out. It was...kind of sad now that he thought about it, but it beat having no friends at all.

Well moving on, he remembered how from that day onward his master began to temper his body in rigoures physical exercise, training him till his bones broke and his muscles screamed in exhaustion, all in an attempt to push his body to peak condition. After that, well, then the real training began. Jubei simultaneously taught him multiple forms of martial arts and hand-to-hand techniques, while at the same time taught him how to use the Azure Grimoire to manipulate seither to his will, though in the later training his master would always advise him that the while he did wield the Azure it was not his power to control...yet. As cryptic as his master was he always remembered that only Rachel beat him in that aspect, though she would usually follow her cryptic advice with a few lightning bolts if he did not understand her at first.

Aside from fighting and manipulating seither Jubei also taught him so much more things that he could ever thank him for. Things such as how to survive in the wilderness, how to hunt, how to forage, how to cook, and how to travel by starlight or the direction of the sun. He had never had the chance to admit it to them (or that he would ever be caught dead saying it at the time) but over the years he viewed Jubei as the father he never had and Rachel as the sister that he never wanted but still loved.

Train, travel, train, and travel some more, that was most of what he recalled when he spent the years as his master's-and to an extent Rachel's-disciple. Then it changed one day, from when he was no longer the boy Jubei found dying in the rain, but a man who now knew what he needed to survive, that they traveled back to where it all began for him. Their travels brought them back to the church, back home. Or rather what remained after the fire.

At first he did not understand why they had returned to what was essentially a relic of the past for him until he saw his master begin to shift through the debris of the church, with Rachel by his side, until he unearthed what he was searching for. From the ashes he took a large and tightly wrapped object, claiming that it held two relics from the Dark War that he had given to the Matron of the church long ago for safe keeping. Jubei had told him that the relics had belonged to the forgotten seventh hero and dear friend of his, a warrior named only as Bloodedge, whose assistance against the Black Beast had assured humanity's victory, but at the cost of his life. Jubei-seeing as Ragna was done with his training and deemed him worthy enough-gave Ragna the relics and told him that he could wield the relics as his own.

Surprised, and a bit humbled at his master's trust in him to hold the artifacts of his friend, Ragna accepted the relics and the set to unbind them from their confines. The first of the relics was a massive single-edged blade that appeared to look more like a giant slab of iron with a revolver like chamber located where the blade met the handle and seemed to have a red, white, and black color scheme going for it. Bloodscythe, his master had called it, a sword that had been tested in the most brutal battle known to his world and still had held firm and unbroken. The second artifact he received was Bloodedge's most prized possession, a long crimson coat with black belt decorations an twin long and thin tails at the back. It may not have looked like much, but when his master had handed it to him he had felt what made it special, because even though it seemed to appear as a simple coat it had a weight to it that reflected the responsibility that the hero Bloodedge had held on his shoulders.

A responsibility and weight that he would now bare on his shoulders from that day onward.

After all was said and done his master then told him that his training was complete, and that whatever path he chose to apply everything he learned to would be a path that he would carve with his own strength and ideals. So it was after saying his goodbyes to Jubei and Rachel, and visiting the grave of the Matron to bid her farewell as well, did Ragna set out to do what he had been preparing himself to accomplish after his years of training; a one man crusade against the N.O.L. government, and in the process drag Terumi out from hiding and kill him. But before he began his path of vengeance he decided to do one finale act of remembrance to his master's friend and honor the gifts he received, and so from that day forward did he take the name of the forgotten hero and add it to his own, so now and always he would be remembered as Ragna the Bloodedge.

He remembered that as his journey began he had wandered to the direction of the nearest Hierarchical City, one of the many finale bastions of humanity, made his way to the very top of the city to reach the first N.O.L headquarter of that branch, and then unleashed hell on those he believed wronged him. Scores of soldiers had rushed out of the base to stop him, first small groups, then platoons, hell they even sent a whole army but still he slaughtered them and continued forward, making his way deeper into the bowels of the headquarters to not only destroy the base but the horrors that it, and all other bases, held deep within them.

Cauldrons, as they were called, gateways used to access immense outputs of power from somewhere called the Boundary, but accessing this power would come at a heavy price. This price being the amount of souls needed to constantly power them, souls that were plentiful and harvested from those around the Cauldron's immediate area, an action that Ragna could not permit to continue if it continued to further whatever Terumi's plans where. So, after dealing with the legion of solders, did he then turn his sights on the Cauldron and destroy it in one mighty swing. From there did Ragna set out to the next city and prepared himself to repeat the same process once more.

City after city, he simply continued to move forward and leave behind destroyed bases, obliterated cauldrons, and mountains of soldier corpses. He caused so much destruction to the "Library" that they eventually placed a bounty of ninety-billion platinum dollars-enough to buy a small country-on his head and also gave him a new nickname; the Grim Reaper.

A little dark if you asked him, but hey it had kept many a noisy civilian and bounty hunter away...most of the time...so he didn't really have complaints with it.

After a while the pattern of infiltrating a base, wiping out the local soldiers, destroying the cauldron in them, then destroying the structure of said bases became so routine that he eventually just stopped counting how many he had destroyed. He did not particularly enjoy the actions he took either, but saw it as a necessary evil that he had to commit if it drew him closer to finding where the bastered that ruined his life was hiding. Eventually his warpath-with a little nudge from Rachel here and there-eventually led him to traveling to a particular Hierarchical city that would ultimately be the turning point of his life, and the lives of many others. The Hierarchical city of Kagutsuchi.

He remembered that when he arrived under the dark of night to the N.O.L. base of said city that everything had been normal by his standards, though he had met quite an arrangement of weird individuals (and one very hungry Kaka clan member) along the way, but still nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. Upon entering the base, however, had raised quite a few red flags as not only had the base been deathly silent, but there had been a certain something missing that should have been there despite the hour he came...people. No soldiers, no guards, hell not even a staff member or a single janitor, just empty corridors and silent halls.

At first he had believed that the he had finally gotten lucky and arrived when the base had been shut down for a special occasion or party and that for once he would not have to fight through a legion to destroy it. Just walk in, smash the place, then leave with no one the wiser of what had taken place, simple and clean. Boy did he wish that had been the case.

He remembered that as he went deeper into the base to reach the Cauldron he had encountered someone who he had believed that he would never meet again, someone who he had also spent a great deal of time looking for, someone who he still wanted to answer questions about the night of the church fire; his baby brother, Jin.

They did not greet each other with hugs and tears, but blades and bloodlust. He remembered how infuriated he was at meeting someone who he believed had stabbed him in the back, and how he became even more enraged when instead of remorse Jin only displayed delight and-with the best term he could (safely) describe it as-a raging murder boner for him. At least he hoped it had been a murder boner and nothing else *shudder*.

The battle had been fierce, with Ragna suffering more than once or twice a stab or slash while returning some of his own with twice the punishment to his brother. Ultimately though it had ended in his favor, leaving Jin beaten and bruised on the floor. Ragna had simply left his brother to black out from the beating he delivered and continued onward to the cauldron, believing that there would be no more obstacles impede him. Well another obstacle did happen to appear, and this time around said obstacle just happened to come in the form of a nearly seven foot tall white faceless freak.

Hakumen, another of the Six Heroes that was thought to have died a hundred years ago, in the flesh, and of course he just so happened to have been looking for him to take his head on a silver platter. Honestly he could not help wondering if his luck had been utter shit in his life because he had pissed off some god or accidentally stepped on a leprechaun, oh well. They traded blows in bloody combat as well and though Ragna never would have admitted it to the masked freaks face h had known he was outclassed, but stubbornness and an iron will kept him from just excepting defeat and dying there. Of course the fact that someone else had interfered before a fatal blow could be delivered and teleported Hakumen away did help a little, and it also reminded him that he never did thank Kokonoe for that untimed assistance.

Beaten and ten different shades of blue he had soldiered on, ignoring the minor discomforts of his aching body to reach the Cauldron. It was upon arriving at the Cauldron that he met two individuals fighting that, through their mere presence there, would set in motion events that would affect not just his life, but the fate of the world itself.

The first had been an N.O.L. soldier by the name of Noel Vermillion, a young woman who, shockingly enough, had the exact same face as his missing sister Saya, golden hair and big innocent eyes and all. Sadly she, as much as he had hoped at that moment, was not truly his missing sister, just someone with the same features, features that were also shared with the second individual but instead of blond hair and green eyes had white hair and a single red right eye, with an eye patch over her left. This person-who he had encountered twice before-was the thirteenth Murakumo Unit, Nu. Even though they shared a common face they were drastically different to each other as the color of their hair. Where Noel was shy and timid Nu was bloodthirsty, unyielding, and also had a dangerouse obsession with wanting to "become one" with him via impaling him.

He remembered walking in-between them and telling Noel to leave while he dealt with Nu, and dame if he gave that fight his all but the two previous battles had left him tired and in rough condition. So it was no surprise that after a grueling battle she had easily defeated him, impaled him multiple times with a hail of swords, and then ran him through the back with her gigantic blade while also impaling herself in the process. Trough all this she kept insisting that they were almost one, with the only thing needed to truly be complete was to fall together into the Cauldron and let gods know what take place.

Helpless and broken, what feeble attempts he had made to free himself were overpowered by Nu's surprisingly immense strength and before he knew it they were falling into the flames of the Cauldron. He still remembers how at that moment he had thought that he had reached the end of his journey and failed in taking his revenge, that is until he felt a small but strong hold on his hand keeping him from plummeting further. Curious as to what stopped his fall he had started up only to see none other than Noel, mustering all of her strength to reel him back up."Don't let go!" she had told him, and as if those words somehow fused him with unknown energy he once more found enough strength to free himself and, with her help, reach solid ground again and left Nu to plummet into the Cauldron by herself.

Once back on solid ground Noel began, some strange reason he had not understood at the time, to feebly hit his chest while repeatedly called him an idiot for doing something so dangerous. Since he had absolutely no idea what to do at the time he had simply let her cry whatever it was out of her system while he patted her back to comfort her, which was strange since he was the one injured, but whatever since the world was already going crazy. They had stayed there for a while as he healed and her crying dwindled, and even at some point Rachel had appeared once more to beret him on his dangerous actions (even if he knew that in her own way she was just making sure he was alright, silly Rabbit). It could almost be called peaceful and, dare he say, nostalgic to him, as it reminded him of the peace he had at the church with his siblings. Sadly this small reprise was shattered by the resounding, but oh so horribly familiar, maniacal laughing that had suddenly filled the Cauldron chamber.

As their heads had snapped to the direction of the laughter all Ragna remembered from that moment on was seeing the world in red and an overwhelming, boiling rage overcome his exhausted body. Standing not twenty paces from them was the monster that he taken everything from him and who he had spent years preparing to kill, Yukki Terumi. His green hair stood on ends, his eyes shined with a crazed psychotic mirth, and a smile so twisted that an it would make a serial killer look like a saint plastered on his face. The snake had prayed no attention to Rachel's warnings or Ragna's rabid attempts to kill him, instead focusing on Noel and, while making his escape, laughed that she had finally "observed" him. Ragna had not understood what he had meant, but if the grim look that Rachel had given it most certainly was not good.

After that eventful meeting Rachel had left, claiming that it was up to her to stop Terumi now, and as he attempted to follow her she had told him, no more like ordered him to cease his attempts to find Terumi. Her parting words where that only she and, for some reason, Noel held the power to end him since she was now the "Eyes of the Azure" and claimed that if he faced him with his "cheap imitation of a grimoire" he would most likely die. Confused and pissed beyond belief he had split up with Noel the first chance it presented itself to chase Terumi despite Rachel's warnings. Looking back on it Ragna could not believe how stubborn and unreasonable he had been at times.

Well after a series of (mis)fortunes and encounters-such as fighting the young vigilante Carl Clover and being injured by his Nox Nyctores Nirvana, being found and healed by Tao and the Kaka clan and then meeting/fighting Lambda eleven (another murakumo unit that was pieced together by the grimalkin scientist Kokonoe)-he eventually found out that in his single minded pursuit of Terumi he had inadvertently left unprotected the very key that the snake had been trying to get his hands on; Noel herself.

He remembered racing back to the N.O.L. base that they had first encountered the lunatic, making his way to the top of the building and discovering that a monolith of some kind had been created and was the reason that there had been no soldiers in his first time here. Apparently it had converted all the personal into pure seither, seither that had now enveloped Noel in a cocoon like membrane and was doing who knew what to her. He remembered that as he continued to stare at he heard clapping coming from behind him and upon turning around had found Terumi slowly walking towards him, the venomous smile never leaving his face. From there, and despite giving it everything he had, he wound up receiving what he could only call the ass whooping of multiple lifetimes.

Beaten and crumpled on the floor Terumi had simply strolled past him and activated the cocoon, revealing Noel in what the snake had called her perfected form; the Twelfth Murakumo Unit, Mu, or as Terumi had preferred to call her Kusanagi the God Slaying Sword. Upon revealing her Terumi sent her on his mission to kill the Master Unit while he stayed behind and "played" with Ragna some more. Every slash and hit that he received from then on was only to continue feeding Terumi's sick form of entertainment, but as he was cut and pummeled Ragna would always rise to his feet once more and dared Terumi to continue his punishment if he did not want to feel his wrath the moment he let up. Eventually the snake became less thrilled at Ragna's pain and more irritated and angered that he had the gull to continue rising no matter how much punishment was met out, so to rid himself of his presence Terumi threw what was to be the final blow that would end Ragna's life...but it never connected.

Lambda, the prime field devise that had lost most if not all her freewill, had taken the fatal blow for him because in those split seconds before he could die she had chosen not to be a machine, but a human being who chose to sacrifice herself if it meant that he would live.

He had not been able to believe that she could have done such a thing, and for him no less. In all his years of travel no one, save for Jubei and Rachel, had ever shown him kindness and at having seen someone willingly give their life to protect his, and to know that it was his reckless nature that led to that, he felt the crash of regret hit him harder than any physical blow. As she laid there dying in his arms he remembers that she never lost her smile, and said that she did not regret her decision because it kept him safe. Soon as life left her she began to fade away before his very eyes, but as she did she also gave him a piece of her soul, and in doing so gave him something that enabled him to turn the coming battle in his favor-the Idea Engine.

Rising once more to engage Terumi in bloody combat Ragna activated his newly acquired power, and till this day he still takes pleasure in the shocked and horrified expression on Terumi's otherwise smug face as he shattered the limitations placed on him and finally gave the snake the beating he deserved. The battle was brutal but had ended relatively quickly, and by the end Ragna had Terumi bleeding at his feet, a scene that he had wanted to see for years. Sadly he could not indulge in ending his hated enemy's wretched life at that moment because every second he spent fighting the snake placed saving Noel further from his grasp, and he would not allow his foolishness take another innocent life. Leaving Terumi where he laid, Ragna had raced to the Cauldron of the base, even saving Rachel from a trap she had been held in along the way, but when she informed him that the only cure to Noel's condition would be death he had outright refused it.

He would not allow it, not after everything she had been made to go through, and if there was another way to bring her back from whatever dark corner she had hidden herself away in her mind then he would find it no matter the cost.

Said cost had to be paid sooner than he had believed as when he arrived-and after taking a wounded Jin's place after his brother's failed attempt to stop her-endured another bloody battle with Noel as his opponent, transferred all the energy that was left in his battered body into his left arm while activating the Idea Engine again, grabbed Noel's head while simultaneously forcing all the energy into her and succeeded in snapping her back to normal. The cost for this success though was the complete destruction of his left arm and draining him of all stamina.

There he had laid on the floor afterwards, his arm gone, Noel (after coming to) pounding his chest and calling him an idiot again for making her cry a second time, Rachel scolding him while also doing her best to heal him, and Jin surprised at the actions he had taken for a complete stranger. Hell, even Hakumen, who had somehow appeared during his battle, decided to spare his life as he believed that fighting Ragna in such a state would be dishonorable. A small reprise in a day that had been nothing but insanity. Sadly their nice little reunion had to be cut short in the worst possible way by three very shocking surprises.

The first surprise had been that Terumi had returned, and in peak health too, while also being accompanied by his partner in crime, a mad scientist named Relius Clover.

The second surprise was that following not to far behind them where a brainwashed Tsubaki Yayoi (or as he referred to her, Jin's totally crazy girlfriend) and a blackmailed Litchi Faye Ling.

The final surprise, and the one that felt like a rusted dagger had been stabbed and twisted in his stomach, was that Saya, the one person who he had hoped remained undamaged by the horrors of the past and the very reason that kept him sane in his bloody warpath, was the Imperator of the N.O.L.. Whatever they had done to her had corrupted her so drastically that gone was the innocent child that he had known long ago, and in her place was a being so cold, vile, and ruthless that her only wish was to destroy all life as they knew it. She was no longer Saya, but a new being named Hades Izanami.

Say-, no, Izanami then decreed that all their efforts would all be for naught, especially his, and that the world would continue on its path to death no matter what feeble attempts they would throw at her. Upon finishing her threat she, alongside her minions, vanished into thin air, leaving all those present to retreat and lick their wounds for what was to come, they were going to need to set aside their differences until they were well enough to continue and stop whatever plans their new foe would unveil.

Eventually-and after receiving a new artificial left hand thanks once again to Kokonoe's assistance-Ragna, Jin, and Noel had to part ways, each seeking to find a way to stop Izanami's plan. None of them thought that they would cross paths again, but perhaps because fate deemed it so they would encounter each other once more and the whirlwind of events that would come from their actions could only be described-at least from Ragna's point of view-as absolutely unbelievable.

Whether said events where meeting the young clone of Celica A. Mercury (the Matron of the church who raised him and his siblings), fighting a man who could literally move the earth with **one fucking stomp** (which still amazed him how he had held his own against that blue haired monster with only one functioning eye and arm), traveling to the past and finding out that he himself was the very same Bloodedge who met Celica and befriended his master over a hundred years ago, facing the unstoppable Black Beast alone in combat, returning back to his timeline only to be bounced around possibilities and absorb the dreams of "the chosen", defeating the giant Nox Nyctores Take-Mikazuchi, and defeating Izanami by having Noel (who they found out was both a part of Izanami and Saya while at the same time maintaining her own existence) absorbed her so that Izanami would forever be sealed inside of her.

All of this insanity eventually led to the climactic reveal that Terumi was not just some insanely powerful individual, but a god that had taken on an existence beyond the Boundary, and thanks in part to having manipulated Noel into "observing" him when she awoke as the "Eyes of the Azure", had then tried to bring the destruction of the world with his now unlimited power. It had taken the combined efforts of Jin (clad in a now purified Susano'o Unit and wielding the "Power of Order") and a now godly powered Noel to forcefully bind Terumi into a mortal shell and, as Ragna grappled with him, banished both of them to their final confrontation within the very center of the Boundary, where time and space where irrelevant and all possibilities became reality; the Azure Horizon.

All roads led to that final moment, where the fate of the entire world had rested on his shoulders, and the only thing standing between salvation and destruction was to defeat the incarnation of evil that was Yuuki Terumi. A god that had fallen to insanity against a man who refused to surrender, even when impossible odds were stacked against him-a trait that he would not break that day-and to the victor would go the unlimited power of the true Azure, the Azure Flame Grimoire. Every punch, every slash and stab and crushing blow, everything that he threw was no longer fueled by anger and the need to complete his vengeance, but a need to defend his family, a desire to ensure that the world would continue existing and the stain of that insane monster ended there and then. In the end, through both herculean effort and unbreakable will power, did he eventually come out the victor with Terumi impaled at the end of Bloodscythe, but the toll for victory came with Ragna's body rapidly deteriorating from the power he had to tap into to secure said victory. It did not help that even when dying Terumi had to spit one finale venomous curse and enjoy that he took one last thing from him.

"Heh heh...E-Even in victory y-you lose...heh heh...s-suffer for eternity, Ragna the Bloodedge!Heh hehe hehehe...hehehehahahah **AHAHAHAHAHA**!" He remembered, as the snake chocked on his own blood and writherd in pain, that the dammed maniacal gleam in his eyes never dwindled and his psychotic grin stayed plastered on his face until he faded away.

Enemy of the world vanquished and prize, the Azure Flame Grimoire, in hand he returned to his family and began to finally bring an end to the play they had been a part of. Gathering both Noel and Jin, all three of them then traveled within the Boundary once more, this time their path led them to the Master Unit, the artificial "God" of their world, and set free the one who had been, in her own way, attempting to lead their fate to that moment. The Origin as she was called, or as Ragna knew her as...Saya, or at least a part of her that Terumi placed in the Master Unit in an attempt to accomplish his schemes for ultimate power. Finally freed Saya thanked him for coming to her rescue after so long, but seeing that Noel held her other half (Izanami) decided that she too should fuse with Noel, so that they would finally be whole.

It was strange at first, seeing that after they had fused Noel still seemed to be her old self, just with the added memories of Ragna and Jin as her brothers and a shared experience with Saya's and her own memories. In the end she was simply happy that she was whole and the world safe at last, and had more wonderful memories to cherish in her life. It made what he was about to do that much sadder for him at the time.

He remembered how shocked both of them had been when he had told them of what he still had to do, that to ensure that their world would never again have to fear the Master Unit meddling with the ties of fate, and to rebirth the world to bring the hopes and dreams of "The Chosen" to reality (who they were also a part of), he would have to remove from existence both physically and from the memory of the world the last obstacle that, if left unchecked, could bring about the end of the world again...himself. He remembered how they both had tried to change his mind, and that when they saw that they could not persuade him with words they then fought him tooth and nail in an attempt to knock sense into him to keep him by their sides, even if for a few meager moments longer.

In the end he defeated them both, but as they pleaded for at least more time to be with him he had decided to share with them one last act of affection so that, even if they no longer remembered, they would at least know deep in their hearts that they were and always would be a family. He gave them one last protective hug, as a older brother should with his younger siblings. Through tears and goodbyes, and the aching of his own heart, he took their dreams and memories of his existence-as he had done with so many others-and began the trek to his final destination, the Gate of the Boundary.

There on the threshold of oblivion did he finally cast the die on his fate and, with resolve and no hint of fear, walked beyond, birthing a new world for those he left behind.

* * *

{The Boundary}

'Heh, you know after all the crap I went through its amazing that I'm still sane,' Ragna thought to himself, only to stop and...reconsider his statement. 'Ok, so I'm still what counts for sane in my world, but still sane nonetheless.'

After he was done reminiscing on his past, and seeing that he was still floating in absolute nothingness, he began to ask himself questions that he had never really had the time to ask himself before, but now seemed the perfect time all things considered.

'Do I regret some of the actions I took in my life?' he thought. The warpath he led, the lives he took, the way that he lashed out at those who had tried to help him when he first started his journey. 'Yeah, I regret some things, but others had to be done.'

'Do I wish that I could have done something better, or acted differently earlier in life?' Again his mind began to quickly flash through certain moments at his self asked question. He recalled Noel's tear streaked face at his near death, Lambda's demise because of his rash decisions, Celica's passing...Nine's death. 'A few. If I had been stronger, or acted faster, or-I don't know, just done something different- then maybe a few more would have gotten a better hand than what fate had dealt them. Maybe I could have saved Nine or found a way to save Celica.' *Sigh* 'But what's done is done.'

The final question that he asked himself, and one that he had spent quite a considerable time thinking upon, was asked not with a thought but from his own lips, as if saying it would assure that whatever he answered himself after would be set in stone as the right answer.

"Was it all worth it?" he asked himself, and as his question hung in the silence of the void what flashed through Ragna's mind was not the hardships he faced in his life, the path that his actions led to, or the rare joys he experienced. No, what flashed through his mind were the many faces of those who traveled alongside him till the end of his journey.

Noel, Jin, Tao, Jubei, Celica, Lambda, Tager, Makoto, Kagura, Bang, Bullet, Litchi, Kokonoe, Hibiki, Amane, Tsubaki, Platinum, Nu, Valkenhayn, Trinity, Nine, Hakumen...Rachel.

Each person was unique and each had their own quirks to their names. Each who he had interacted with in one form or another and had created ties with them that he believed that he was unable to forge with other people in his life again. Some were allies, others were friends, and those who grew closest to him became something that he had thought lost long ago; a family. They were people who he had willingly traded his existence to ensure that they gained their dreams and happiness they deserved in their new world, a world where the Master Unit could no longer interfere and they could live in peace.

So to answer his own question he simply closed his eyes and let a small smile tug at the corners of his lips.

"Hell, I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat if it meant they all would be happy." Letting out a small chuckle at both his answer and his softened heart he decided that now, after remembering his past and then doing some soul searching, would be as good a time as any to take a nap. After all that was pretty much all he could do at the moment.

So, as his eyes were already closed and a sense of ease began to wash over him, he began to let sleep take hold of his weary body and send him to the land of dreams...then a searing bright light flashed into existence. He could tell that the light was intense as even with his eyes closed the light was just about blinding him.

'God dammit,' he cursed 'Just when I thought I was about to get some sleep. I mean I know my luck is crap but how the hell is it that right when I was about to get some shut eye the only light for miles around up and decides to shine in my-,' whatever rant that Ragna had suddenly came to a screeching halt as he remembered that; one: he was in the Boundary, and two: there was not meant to be any light source, period.

Snapping his eyes open (then squinting them and cursing his lapse in judgment to up and stare at said blazing light source) he came upon a very peculiar sight. A small sphere of light, no bigger than a soccer ball, was floating just inches away from his face and shining with the intensity of a star. Ragna's first reaction was to begin to close his eyes again and attempt to move his arms to shield his face from the onslaught of light, but then he discovered a second nifty surprised had occurred; he could move again. Surprised at his now returned mobility he stared at his arms before raising his sights back towards the glowing sphere.

"Are you the one doing this?"

Slowly Ragna began to inch his hand out to grab the small ball of light. He had thought that upon touching the strange ball he would be met with intense heat or a horrible burning sensation, but he was not. Oh it was warm, true, but it was more akin to the comforting warmth than anything, almost like the soothing heat of a hearth fire.

"What are you?" he had asked, and then felt silly asking an inanimate object a question. Well the ball must have had some form of sentience, as at that very moment it appeared to react to his query by steadily increasing the intensity of its glow and warmth. Brighter, brighter, and brighter still, the sphere became so bright that soon all Ragna could see was the blinding white of its light.

"The hell?!" was all he was able to shout as the light continued to grow and grow and grow...then darkness.

* * *

{Unknown Location}

Cold. That was the first sensation that Ragna felt when he began to come to, freezing cold. Then the soreness came, the kind that came from an Iron Tager sized beat down and left his muscles screaming in pain. The last sense that fully roused him from his state of grogginess was the scent that lingered in the air around him, since even though it was a pleasant smell it was the fact that it was present in the first place is what shocked him. The smell of soil, of freshly fallen snow and most prominent of all was the overpowering smell of...

'Is that...pine?' he thought before slowly, almost at a snail's pace, opened his left eye. Indeed surrounding him was no longer the dark and empty space of the Boundary, but rather a beautiful cloudy grey sky that had a steady downfall of snow. From his peripheral vision he was also able to make out that surrounding him was a ring of pine trees.

Deciding that lying on his back and staring up at the sky was not going to answer a few of his already growing questions Ragna began to slowly attempt to rise off the ground, only to stop when he felt that both his right eye and rich arm refused to function.

"Humph. So I'm going to have to do this same song and dance again huh?" he groaned out as he began to fully rise the rest of the way off the ground with the practiced ease of someone who had already been in a similar state of handicap, throwing off the thin sheet of snow that had settled over his body during his rest. When he was at his full height, and after popping a few nicks along his back and shoulders, did he fully take in his surroundings and saw that he was in some sort of forest clearing with towering pine trees spreading as far as he could see. He even took the time to appreciate that instead of endless darkness his vision was now flooded with vibrant greens and browns, glistening pure white snow littering the floor and pine needles, and the odd blue, red, and purple of some surprisingly resilient flowers that sprang from the frozen soil.

"Where am I?" he asked himself, as not only was the fact that he had somehow left the Boundary surprising, but the fact that for the life of him he could not detect a single trace of seither. Not in the air, in the soil, or even in the surrounding foliage. It was just non-existent. "Ok, I'm in a forest in the middle of nowhere, I can't sense any seither whatsoever, and I can't use my right arm or right eye. All I need now is to run into a red head wearing a cape and it will be just like when i went back in time." Seeing that after a few minutes of waiting and not encountering said red head he decided that the possibility of time travel could be thrown out the window, for now at least. Then he suddenly remembered about the very item that brought him there in the first place.

"Wait," he began "Where the hell did that glowing ball go?" A quick scan of the immediate turned up nothing. "Well whatever it was its gone now. Oh well. Now, what am I supposed to do now?" His first thought was to perhaps sit tight for a while longer to see if anything significant happened, but the falling snow, while beautiful the first time he saw it, had already lost its charm and was beginning to become bothersome. In the end he decided that he may as well explore the forest in detail, at least until he found some clue as to where he had ended up being thrown into.

As he began his travel, heading in what he had best believed that north was, he could not help marveling at the scenery around him. Mighty pines for miles around, soft snow that crunched beneath his feet as he walked, and hardy bushes here and there that not only withstood the cold but beared bright red berries that appeared ripe for the picking. He had even spotted a few rabbits and deers-which now that he thought about it he should consider hunting a few in case he got hungry-but then decided to let them be, for now at least.

Eventually after two hours his travel had brought him to a second far larger clearing in the maze of trees. This clearing had a few bushes that surrounded the outskirts of it, and even had a few fallen trees here and there, but the aspect that caught his attention was what appeared to be a decent sized spring with crystal clear water that took up the center of the clearing. Seeing that he had become parched in his travel, and noticing that the spring had yet to freeze over from the cold and snow, Ragna started to walk towards the spring, bent down on one knee, and then used his still functioning left arm to scoop a drink a few handfuls of chilling yet refreshing water.

" Ah~, that's the stuff. Tastes pretty good too." Upon getting his fill of spring water Ragna began to view the scenery around him and let himself relax if, only for a while. "You know wherever this place is it's actually pretty peaceful. Nice and quiet too."

Almost as if a switch had been flipped Ragna had suddenly went from at peace to on edge, as whatever pretense of peace he had felt faded away as he had finally taken notice of a missing aspect from the clearing that he overlooked when he had entered it. There was absolutely no sound to be heard. No birds chirped, no deer walked and crunched the snow, not even the pitter-patter of a rabbit scurrying of to its den, only complete and utter silence.

'It's a little too quiet. I have a bad feeling about this.' he mused to himself, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the clearing more thoroughly. Whatever danger he was looking for was not seen but rather heard, a slight twang and whistling that came from behind and slightly to the left of him. Years of honed senses screamed at him to dodge and it was his quick reflexes that had him throw himself to the right and roll out of the way, letting something whistle past where his back used to be and impale itself in the ground. Springing back to his feet and assuming a low fighting stance Ragna took a quick glance at what had almost hit him, only to gawk at what he saw.

An arrow. Not a seither powered ars armagus bolt or ars magus spell, but an actual archaic arrow, with red fletching and wooden rod, was what was sticking out of the ground.

"By the Eight Dionnius, how in Oblivion could you have missed? He was right in front of you!" a voice shouted. Snapping his attention to the direction that both the arrow and the voice had come from Ragna's sights landed on an on crop of bushes slightly to the left of where he had entered the clearing.

"Dammit! Rowndinn you imbecile now he knows where we are! Troops assume shield formation!" a far deeper and athorative voice shouted. From the bushes emerged-not N.O.L. soldiers as Ragna had prepared himself to face-but rather, well, the only word he could use to describe them was (as ridiculous as it sounded) Roman soldiers. They emerged in a triangular formation with five soldiers in the first row, followed by a second row of four, and with a final solider at the rear of the formation that had a clear view past both rows.

Ten all together, with the first nine soldiers clad head to toe in brown leather armor and maneuverable battle skirts. Leather vambraces, boots, and leather helmets where also part of their gear, with each piece having a repeated symbol of a dragon in a diamond like formation branded in the center of their helmets, wrist armor, and even the belts of their skirts. The only difference between them was their choice of weapons, as the first row of five solders where armed with light shields made of wood with intricate steel lining the edges and overlapping vertically in the middle and with what appeared to be gladius styled swords in hand. The second row of four soldiers where equally armed with the gladius swords sheathed to their sides but traded their shields for quivers full of arrows strapped to their backs and long bows which where, incidentally, drawn and pointed right at him.

The final soldier at the rear, the one that Ragna assumed to be their leader, was far more fortified than his foot soldier troops. Gone was the leather chest armor and skirt, instead replaced with a thick steel cuirass and steel segmented skirt, with the cuirass having the added protection of steel fins rising from between the shoulder blades to prevent any sword swipes or blows to the neck. The leather boots and vembraces were also replaced with heavy steel gauntlets and steel greaved boots taking their place. The last change in attire came in the form of, instead of a leather helmet, a heavy Roman centurion styled steel helmet took its place, with the plum being made of steel instead of feathers and being a clear indication of this individuals rank as higher than the rest.

His armaments were also different to his troops as instead of a shield, sword, or bow he appeared to be armed with an intricate steel dagger sheathed in his belt and a massive double handed steel hammer in his hands, with one side of the hammer being blunt and the other side having a curved and sharp point.

Before Ragna could begin to question if his time in the Boundary had affected his mind and was causing him to hallucinate the captain chose to speak.

"Listen well Stormcloak scum," he began "By the orders of General Tullius, and the will of the Empire, you are to lay down any and all of your weapons and surrender at once. Any form of resistance on your part shall be met with lethal force. Am I understood rebel?"

Of all the words that came out of the strange Roman's mouth Ragna, surprised that they **somehow** spoke English, found himself only understanding half of them, and all they did was leave him with more questions rather than answers.

"Listen pal, in case you haven't noticed I'm not exactly armed at the moment. Also, rebel? Stormcloak? I don't know what the hell you are going on about, but it sure as hell is not any of my problem." Ragna all but growled back. An arrow that narrowly missed his right foot was the response that one of the archers decided to answer his retort with.

"Final warning rebel." the captain shouted, his tone having lowered to what was supposed to be a more threatening one. "Surrender now or face the consequences."

Seeing the situation that he was now thrust in Ragna began to ponder on what his response should be. After all he was in some unknown land (or time period for all he knew) and the first people he had encountered were a little on the hostile side. He had tried, in his own way, to talk his way out of the standoff, but they did not seem up for diplomacy. He could try to flee and out run them, but if they somehow cornered him, and the fact that his body still ached from how he ended up there, then he would have to face them both tired and with nowhere else to flee. He sure as hell could not just surrender to them either since he had no idea what they would do to him if he gave into their demands.

Tossing around scenarios and weighing his odds in facing them he had come to a conclusion that since trouble had decided to find him, and seeing as he still had the element of surprise in that they believed him to be harmless with no weapon, he may as well give a push of his own back at trouble. Faster than anything the soldiers had encountered in their service Ragna had already crossed the sizable distance between them and was upon the middle shield soldier, left arm reared back to deliver a punch. For his part the trooper-still stunned at the frightening speed the crimson cloaked man displayed-was still able to bring his shield up and braced himself by lowering his center mass, anchoring his left leg diagonally behind him while also bending his right knee, all to absorb the impact. Normally by taking this stance a shield bearer would easily be able to stop the impact of a fist from a common man in its tracks. Sadly for him Ragna was not a man of average strength.

The moment his fist lashed out and impacted the shield's center the wooden base exploded in a plum of splinters, leaving the overlapping vertical steel strip in the center to bend and twist inward. Before the man could scream from what was most likely a fractured left arm he was sent flying backwards by the force of the punch, slammed into an archer of the second row along the way, and then both continued sailing back in the direction of the heavy armored captain. Luckily the captain had enough common sense to dive to the side to avoid being hit by his soldiers turned projectiles, allowing them to zoom past him before they came to an abrupt stop when they slammed into the base of a tree causing snow to explode outward and also shake loose snow from the tree.

Stunned by both the inhuman display of speed and strength they had witnessed they were not prepared when Ragna set his eyes on the shield bearer to his right, dashing forward and delivering a devastating hay-maker that snapped the man's head backwards, leaving him to crumple to the floor in a state of unconsciousness.

"You bastard!" the shield bearer to his left screamed, face twisted in rage as he charged forward and attempted to deliver a vertical blow at Ragna's exposed back. The reaper for his part simply side-stepped the blow, allowing the solider to stumble forward in his failed attempt at vengeance, before he twirled around and delivered a jaw shattering uppercut that lifted the solider off the ground. Just before he was allowed to touch the ground again Ragna lashed his hand forward to grab the man's ankle, then proceeded to toss him with incredible force at another archer, and much like the previous two the duo were sent flying until they impacted with the base of a tree and kicked up snow.

Five down, five to go.

Deciding that allowing any of their brothers in arms to continue facing this white haired and crimson clothed individual in melee would be neigh suicidal the last two archers let loose their strung arrows, aiming to kill or at least cripple this assailant. For Ragna though it merely came as an annoyance, side stepping the first arrow and back handing the second from hitting him. The sound of crunching snow to his left alerted him that another of the shield wielding Romans decided to test his luck against him, and upon turning to meet his opponent's charge quickly ducked to avoid a horizontal slash aimed at his head before retaliating with his left fist flashing forward and hitting right at the soldiers chest. The sound of cracking bones reached his ears as the man was sent flying back before landing on his back on the snow, and from the looks-and sounds-of it was not going to get up anytime soon.

The battle cry of the last shield soldier sounded to Ragna's right, catching his attention once more. As the soldier attempted to gain vengeance for his defeated comrades Ragna, while still in a crouched like state from ducking the previous attack, twisted around while lashing out with a harsh kick aimed low at the soldier's knee. The force of the kick was so strong that upon impact it not only shattered the man's kneecap but also caused it to bend backwards at an unnatural angle. Leaving the man to crumple to the ground screaming in pain rose and set his sights on the finale three combatants still standing.

The Roman like commander appeared to be shocked that in the span of two minutes his force of ten men was reduced to just him and two archers by what they had assumed was an unarmed and injured rebel. It seemed impossible, but the proof was there before his very eyes.

"Tch. If you want something done right you have to do it yourself." the captain growled out as he moved forward while readying his massive hammer. The archers likewise retrieved more arrows to string and have at the ready.

Deciding that he wanted to end this quickly Ragna charged forward, weaving past the arrows set his way and zeroing in on the charging captain. He prepared to dodge what appeared to be a horizontal swing from the hammer, only to leap back at the last second when the armored opponent caused his hammer to curve downward before sharply swinging upward, causing snow from the ground to rise and block him from Ragna's line of sight. The whistling of the air coming closer to his position signaled Ragna to quickly roll to the left, narrowly evading the twin arrows that emerged from beyond the mist of snow. Apparently the archers had decided to take advantage of his momentary blindness and try to turn him into a human pin cushion.

Rising from his roll Ragna then had to dodge again to avoid a powerful overhead swing from the pursuing captain, noticing that when the hammer hit the earth it had enough force to tear a sizeable chunk of snow and frozen soil. Before he could capsize on the captain's overexertion Ragna had to dodge to the right once again to avoid more arrows from hitting his unprotected side.

'Tch. This is starting to get annoying,' he thought to himself. 'Anytime I'm about to get a hit in those arrows follow right after.' Suddenly he had an idea on how to end the two front attacks, but he had to time it right.

He waited until the heavily armored captain came barreling to him with another attempt of an overhead swing. Just as before he dodged, this time to the left, but this time he immediately focused on the archers, and the moment he saw that they were a hair's width away from being loosed he set his plan in motion. Like lightning his left arm flashed forward just enough to grab the captain's chest armor. "What?!" was all the captain said before Ragna lifted him up and repositioned him right in between himself and the archers. Twins 'thwacks' were heard, followed by the captain screams of pain.

"C-Captain!" one of the archers cried in horror upon realizing that they had just shot their superior officer. One arrow had hit directly in the small of his back between the cuirass and the steel skirt, while the second buried itself deep into his left thigh.

Seeing that his human shield had dropped his hammer and was distracted by pain, the reaper dragged him forward, reared his head back, and then delivered a devastating head-butt. He slightly regretted doing so as slamming into the steel helmet left him with ringing ears and a slight headache, but seeing that he had caved in the area he had hit and the captain's eyes rolling to the back of his head as he was sent to the land of dreams made it slightly more bearable. Still, ouch.

Dropping the now unconscious leader Ragna then turned to the archers. He saw that they stood as still as statues with mouths opened wide, as they were still in shock at his maneuver, so much that they had not draw their arrows again. Seeing an opportunity Ragna bolted forward to finish the battle.

"Shit!" one of the archers screamed as he fumbled as he attempted to draw another arrow from his quiver, only to see that it was too late. Ragna was in front of him in seconds, smashing his fist into his face hard enough to knock him out cold while loosening a few teeth and breaking his nose in the process. Seeing one less threat to deal with Ragna turned to the finale archer only to be met with a pleasant surprise.

The soldier had apparently realized that it was better for his health not to provoke him as he had dropped his bow and was hurriedly unfastening his sword sheath to toss it to the ground as well. "P-Please don't hurt me," he had squeaked as he raised his hands in surrender, all the while shaking like a leaf.

Ragna, sensing an opportunity to get some much needed answers, walked up to the Roman, grabbed a handful of his leather armor and raised him three inches off the ground so that they were both at eye level. Now that he had a good look at him Ragna was able to make out some features he hadn't noticed before. The first was that the solider was young, appearing no older than seventeen or eighteen at the most. He also appeared to have the olive skin of someone of Italian ancestry, with dark brown hair and deep brown eyes as well. Said eyes were also the size of dinner plates and filled to the brim with fear at the moment.

"All right kid here's the deal, I've had what has been a **very** hectic day so far, and on top of all of it I have a load of questions that I need answered. Now you're going to answer said questions unless you want to get on my bad side, we clear?" Ragna ordered. The solder's frantic shacking of yes was a very pleasing sight to him at that moment. "Good, now first question: why did you attack me?" The slow and near growl like way he asked made it clear that he was not to be lied to.

The solider took an audible gulp before he responded. "I-It was our orders sir. G-General Tullius ordered that any individual encountered in our perimeter was to be considered part of the Stormcloak rebels a-and arrested on the spot. T-Those who resist to being apprehended are to be met with lethal force...sir?" he hastily added, hoping that being formal would leave him with less bruises from this dangerous individual.

'There's that word again, Stormcloak. What does that even mean? Who are they?' Perplexed that he was confused for whomever these 'Stormcloaks' where Ragna decided that he would ask the kid what it meant later. Right now there was a more important question he needed answered.

"Alright that's one question down, now second question kid. Where the hell am I?" His question was met with the Roman looking at him as if he had grown a second head.

"D-Don't you know? We're near the border of Cyrodiil, already entering Skyrim."

'Skyrim? Never heard that name pop up in history, and I've also never heard any Hierarchical City by that name either.' Before he could ask any further questions Ragna's interrogation was interrupted by a loud billowing noise.

*Truuuuuuuuuummmmm!*

Whirling his head to the source he found that the soldier whose leg he had snapped earlier had somehow crawled his way to the body of the uncounciuous leader. In his hand appeared to be a small blow horn, presumably retrieved from the captain's belt. Before he could rush over to silence him the soldier had already taken his second wind and let loose a longer, louder blow.

*TRRRUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMM!*

At first nothing seemed to happen. Then he heard it. It was faint at first, barely noticeable, but eventually the noise grew louder and louder. Shuffling and crunching snow, snapping twigs, and the frantic clink of steel on steel. Reinforcements were coming, and by the sound of it a far larger force than what he had just dealt with.

Deciding that he did not want to see exactly how many more soldiers he would be facing-and still reeling from the aches his body had suffered from his summoning here and the added stress of his recent battle-Ragna threw his hostage towards the ground before turning in the opposite direction of the coming force and bolting to the trees. As he ran he was able to hear a few of the new arrivals as they entered the clearing.

"By the Nine, what happened here?"

"Quick get one of the healers here now!"

"Who did this?!"

"Wait, what's that over there?"

"It's a rebel! Quick, don't lose sight of him!"

"Don't let him retreat back to the others!"

'Fuck!' Ragna cursed as he continued running deeper into the forest, uplifting swaths of snow as he went. He refused to look back and see how many soldiers were following him or how far behind they were, if he did then he risked tripping over a root or cashing into a tree and then having them on him in no time. No, he had to keep going forward no matter what.

For what seemed like hours Ragna ran, but still his pressures continued hounded him. They were persistent, he would give them that. Muscles screaming and nearing exhaustion he began to look for anyway to lose his pressures, but while doing so broke through a formation of tightly packed trees. What he found on the other side of said tree line left him more confused, and a little worried, than ever. More Roman like soldiers, at least sixty strong, filled the new clearing Ragna found himself in but they were not what caught his attention, oh no, but rather that there appeared to be another thirty or so warriors present and that-by the state of their clothes and the fact that they were on their knees with their hands held up in surrender-seemed to have lost a skirmish with the Romans.

These newcomers wore vastly different than the Roman soldiers, so it was rather easy to distinguish one from the other. Instead of leather armor and skirts the members of this new third-party wore what appeared to be short sleeved chain-mail with a large quilted leather cuirass over it that reached all the way down to the knees, while also wearing a large blue cloth that went over their left shoulder before being wrapped around their necks like a scarf, looped back to the front and then held in place at the chest by with leather belts. They also traded the military styled leather boots and vembraces for furred leather boots and padded furred gloves.

The only piece of equipment that seemed to vary from person to person from these new individuals was their choice of head gear. Some wore a sort of hide helmet that was decorated with small iron studs for added protection, others wore a leather helm that had curved horns at the top that seemed more decorative in nature rather than for practical use, and some just chose not to wear anything at all but had runic like war paint decorating their faces and even had braids decorating their bright blond and dark brunet beards and exposed hair. All of these features wound up giving these newcomers the appearance of...

'Vikings?! First Romans and now Vikings, just where or when the hell did I end up?' As Ragna stood stunned out of his mind at encountering what looked like another set of ancient warriors he almost did not hear the crunching snow from behind him or catch the silver glint of a sword sailing through the air as it attempted to cleave his head off. Key word, attempted. Snapping out of his stupor, and thanks to his quick reflexes, he ducked at the last moment, catching the Roman who had caught up with him by surprise and causing him to stumble forward, before Ragna rewarded his efforts with a harsh back-handed strike that sent him flying back through the trees he had come from. Whatever victory he had was short lived as the rest of his pressures crashed through the trees and into the clearing, giving Ragna the chance to see that the force that had hunted him down appeared to be thirty strong (or at least twenty-nine strong now, hehe). What made matters worse was that their arrival also alerted the other occupants of the clearing to their presence, causing all eyes to land on the white haired crimson clothed man and the army that had chased him.

"It's over rebel," one of the braver of his perusing party decided to shout at him "You're completely surrounded and outnumbered. Surrender now while you can."

Ragna's response to this ultimatum was a well thought out and witty response of "Kiss my pale ass!" before proceeding to charge and smash his fist in the face of the nearest soldier that had chased him. On second thought perhaps it was not as witty a response as expected. Oh well. From there Ragna simply became a whirlwind of punches, kicks, upper-cuts and leg sweeps that left a drastically growing number of soldiers with just as many broken jaws, legs, ribs and knocked out teeth. Though it appeared that the reaper had the upper hand and was simply slaughtering them easily, the truth was that he was already running on fumes and heading quickly to the doorsteps of unconsciousness via exhaustion, and it was simple desperation that had him continue fighting like a man possessed.

He needed some way to distract the Romans just long enough to make a quick escape, and he needed it now. Luckily said distraction came in the form of one of the Viking warriors seizing the distraction of the one man army to overpower the closest Roman soldier near him. Timing it to when the solider left his guard down enough the Viking sprang forward, slugging the soldier across the face and ripping his sword from his hands before plunging it deep into said soldier's heart, decorating the white snow red with a fountain of blood. As he pried the blade from the dying Roman he raised it skyward before bellowing in a deep and frenzied voice. "Victory or Sovngarde!" the blue clothed man shouted to the heavens, and like a rally call all of his kinsmen rose up with their wills to fight rekindled once more. What happened next could only be described as utter chaos.

The faster of the Vikings were able to repeat their comrade's action, stealing the weapons of the nearest guards before turning them upon their previous owners. Others were able to unsheathe small daggers that they had hidden on their person and charged soldiers who had larger and far more effective weapons than theirs. The braver-or most likely the more insane-of the blue clothed men simply charged the Romans unarmed, fighting with their bare hands like wild animals that clawed, punched, or kicked anything that was not wearing blue. It was brutal. It was chaotic. It was just what Ragna needed.

'Now's my chance. While they fight like crazy I just have to reach the trees and-,' "Gaaaahhhh!" Whatever plan he had been formulating screeched to a halt as a ball of light hit him square in his chest and ignited a horrible searing pain where it hit, destroying his shirt and leaving the skin beneath it nearly charred and blackened. "What...," was all he said while he fell to his knees, scanning the field to find where the light had come from. What he found was a Roman soldier who instead of a leather helm had a brown hood and instead of being armed with a sword or bow simply had his arms outstretched. Looking closer Ragna was just able to spot small sparks of white lightning dancing about the soldiers fingers before they disappeared. 'Is that...magic?'

Before he could question anything else Ragna felt a sharp blow to his right temple, causing him to fall face first into the snow and let blissful unconsciousness take him.

[Imperial Legion P.O.V.]

He could not believe it. He just could not believe it for the life of him. This red cloaked berserker, this one man army who battered so many of his comrades around like they were nothing, had just been brought down, and by their plan no less.

"It worked?" the battlemage mumbled to himself as he stared at the now unconscious red demon of a man. "It worked...It worked! Blessed Nine Divines it actually worked!" he all but sang. His battle brother, who had delivered the pommel strike that brought the man down was equally stunned, as he had believed he would have ended like the rest who had fought the white haired man; broken and bleeding on the ground.

"Thank Mara." he sighed, relief flooding his body at the mere fact that he was still alive. Wanting to keep his health the way he preferred it, in the still-alive-and-loving-it category, the sword wielding Imperial soldier did a quick scan of the battlefield to see what threats remained, but as it turned out that the small skirmish with the Stormcloaks was over a quickly as it had started. Of the thirty-three they had captured the first time their ambush was sprung now only twenty remained with the other ten laying on the ground and not appearing to move. The Imperial sighed over the needless bloodshed.

"Well it looks like everything is beginning to wrap up. Can't believe the ambush actually worked." he told the battlemage as he sheathed his sword in his belt.

"I know right," the battlemage said as he dispelled his Spark spell "and we were able to catch them without much problem. Er, well..." he stuttered as he gazed at the aftermath of their red friend's rampage and the injured of both sides. Soldiers littered the ground and if they weren't unconscious they were groaning in pain as they nursed broken bones. "Almost without trouble." he added.

"Hey!" they heard someone shout. As they turned in the direction the voice came from they were met with one of the newest recruit running to them like there was no tomorrow. The strangest thing was that the greenhorn was supposed to be an archer from the troops that had been posted in the south-east but was strangely missing both his bow and his sword.

"Yeah, what do you want kid?" the sword wielder asked, but his question went ignored as the new soldier had his eyes glued to the downed white haired rebel.

"You guys were able to take him down? How?" He made no attempt to hide the surprise in his voice, almost making it seem like the very feat was supposed to be impossible.

The battlemage simply began to scratch the back of his head as a look of slight embarrassment crossed his face. "Believe it or not we just caught him by surprise. I struck him with a Spark spell and then Burnen here hit him in the head when he went down. It was only pure luck that it had worked." Though he seemed embarrassed at admitting the later part he could not help but puff out his chest with pride that their makeshift plan had worked out.

"Well what do we do with him now?" the (ex)archer asked.

"For now we haul his ass back to the other captured Stormcloaks and await further orders. Now come give me a hand lad, this one looks heavy." the now named Burnen said as he took the left arm of the rebel and slung it across his shoulder, then waited till the archer repeated said action with the other arm before carrying the red rebel to the other prisoners. The battlemage followed close behind at the ready with a spell if the rebel awoke again, but thankfully he stayed unconscious the entire walk before being dumped on the ground next to some kneeling prisoners.

"Attention!" an athorative voice rang through the clearing causing all the Imperial troops-or at least those who could physically do so at the moment- to snap to attention as one of the steel clad captains turned to the very man responsible for organizing the brilliant ambush and saluted him, placing a closed fist over his heart.

This man, who had slightly tanned, weathered, and clean shaved face with close cropped white hair , appeared to be a man who while aged was still in the prime of his life. Gone were the brown leather and grey steel, and in their place this man donned the brilliant bronze cuirass of an Imperial general, which was proudly emblazoned with a golden and mighty image of the Imperial insignia upon his breast with additional gold flourishes here and there. A belt adorned his waist that was made of small but dazzling gold medallions. Even his skirt was extravagant, with leather and steel replaced by small overlapping bronze plates that were equally flourished with gold. The final touches that completed the athorative premise of his armor was the short sleeved crimson shirt with added gold sleeves he wore beneath the cuirass, and the small crimson cape he wore clasped to his back by two additional golden medallions located on each shoulder that held the cape in place.

This man, this seasoned warrior, was none other than General Tullius, hero of the Empire, and now he stood in front of his troops to see the fruits of his labor as he took in each and every face of the defeated rebels. The steel clad captain that had announced his presence stepped forward and waited for the general to issue orders.

"Captain, report." Tullius ordered. Following said orders the captain stood at attention as he began to detail their victory.

"General Tullius, the clearing is secured and all Stormcloak rebels mentioned by our spies have been captured or neutralized, sir." the captain stated.

"How many of the rebels were killed?"

"Of the original thirty-three entourage fifteen have been successfully captured, five are heavily wounded, and the final ten fell in battle, sir."

Tullius' eyes narrowed as a certain aspect was missing from the report. Said aspect being whether or not the person that the trap was meant for was also with those captured.

"And what of Ulfric captain?" he asked.

The captain's response to said question was to puff out his chest with pride and the right corner of his lips to twitch up in a smug smile. "Captured sir. My men were able to apprehend him and two of his guards as they attempted to flee amidst the confusion of their short lived uprising, sir."

"Excellent." Tullius replied. With a small smile of his own appearing on his face the general began to walk to the area with the prisoners while continuing his talk with the captain. "Make sure that he's bound and gagged as per orders. Wouldn't want him to use that blasted voice of his, at least until we place the special shackles on him, now would we?"

Tullius' walk ended when he was in front of the gathered prisoners, noticing that their special "guest" must have been moved to the wagon specifically meant for him as to discourage any more attempts at escape. If looks could kill then the glares that the rebels where sending his way would have killed him a thousand times over. 'Though at this point that would probably be the only way these rebels would be able to kill me,' Tullius thought as he saw the defeated state they were in. Perhaps because of this his next action was done to both stroke his ego at finally crushing these rebels as well as for the practical and professionalism of his position.

"Captain, what is the status on the troops who had participated in this operation?" Tullius had asked, expecting to hear the captain reply with boasts of only suffering minor inconveniences. He was instead met with momentary silence. "Captain I believe I asked you a question."

"Y-Yes sir, apologies." The captain quickly responded before clearing his throat to continue. "Of the thirty men we had stationed in the ambush area, and combined with the three scouting parties we had placed in the north, we have a total of fifty-nine able bodied soldiers who only suffered minor scratches and wounds, though they did suffer one fatality, sir."

Tullius began to nod his head in approval, even with the thought of having lost one man, at the reasonable number until he stopped and realized that the number of soldiers accounted for were drastically lower from the manpower he had brought for this operation.

"Captain, where are the other forty troops we had stationed in the south?" He was met with a pregnant pause before the captain chose to continue.

"*Ahem* Yes, well, you see general, as the southern troops were waiting for orders to engage the enemy party they were following your orders on apprehending any and all individuals who tried to enter or leave the ambush area. They were successful in capturing two individuals, one a regular Stormcloak scout ant the other a man traveling by horseback who claims to only be a horse thief. The later of the two is still in custody until we are able to determine that he is telling the truth and is not just a rebel in disguise." Seeing as the general raised a single eyebrow, a clear sign of his thinning patience, the captain chose to quickly continue talking. "This relates to the missing scouts, sir. As one of the scouting groups were in waiting they encountered what appeared to be an unarmed scout." He said, before pointing to the red clothed and white haired scout that was lying unconscious in the snow. "That scout, to be precise. He appeared to be heading back to the main rebel force so our scouts attempted to stop him before he could ruin our ambush, sir."

The captain paused as he prepared to deliver what would undoubtedly be shocking news to the general.

"The scouting party was-well, well it was decimated sir." He said and saw the jolt of surprise that ran across Tullius' face.

"An entire squad of scouts was devastated by one unarmed rebel, captain?"

"Not just one squad sir." The commander added, the pride that had filled his chest moments before began to deflate with each passing word. "One of the surviving troops was able to sound the emergency horn and alerted the rest of the southern troops. They gave chase and followed the rebel back here to the ambush site. The horn had also caused us to trigger the ambush earlier than expected so the element of surprise would not be lost. We believed that in seeing that the trap had still worked and that he was now completely surrounded by ninety men that he would surrender peacefully. He did not." The captain began to massage his temples as he pointed to far left of the clearing, leading Tullius to see the exact damage this one man did. It was not pleasant.

Broken legs, twisted arms, soldiers moaning from pain on the ground, and those who could still walk limped to the nearest healers to have their wounds treated.

"Of the forty southern troops only seven remained unharmed after fighting this man sir, the other thirty-three are either unconscious or nearly crippled. Though luckily there have been no reported fatalities from their injuries…so far anyways, sir."

Tullius took all this information in, though it still surprised him that one man had done so much damage. Unarmed at that too. He stared at said individual on the ground before turning back to the captain to ask him a very important question.

"Captain, as you know that when we began this operation I was able to acquire a certain pair of shackles from our…"friends"…the Thalmor." Apparently by just saying the name of these individuals left a horrid taste in the general's mouth, if his scrunched eyebrows were any indication, but he recovered enough to continue. "These shackles are a pair of surviving slave brands from before the eruption of the Red Mountain of Morrowind. As you know these shackles were used to suppress the strength and magicka from the slaves who wore them, to prevent any form of uprisings. I was able to procure a rare set for the purpose of placing them on Ulfric's bloodied hands so he would be easier to apprehend and keep in custody."

Tullius took a quick glance at the red rebel before returning his attention back to the captain and continuing his train of thought. "Now however, after what you have told me and what I have just seen, I find myself switching my priorities to placing those shackles on this man instead. Tell me captain, who do you think the shackles should be placed on?"

"Officially sir I believe that the shackles should be placed on Ulfric. After all he is the reason that this ambush was set in motion, and any insurance of preventing his escape is to be used immediately." The words came out fast and clear, as if the captain had rehearsed those lines hundreds of times in case he was askedon the matter. They seemed absolute...if not for the quick glance he sent to the red berserker.

"And unofficially captain?" Tullius asked with a raised brow.

"Unofficially sir... I believe we should place them on the red scout. Ulfric is dangerouse, I admit, but so long as he is bound and gagged then he is as harmless as any other man. This scout on the other hand has the strength of a troll, if he where to wake once more I doubt that common rope will hold him.'

When the captain finished speaking Tullius placed his hands behind his back and closed his eyes, appearing to be deep in thought. When he opened them again his eyes where focused and filled with certain conviction. "I've made my decision then. Place the shackleson the red scout, but also double the binds on Ulfric and tighten his gag. Afterwards begin to load the prisoners on the wagons we brought."

The captain stood at attention and saluted once more. "Yes sir, though may I ask what our destination will be when we head out sir?"

General Tullius turned away from the rebels, allowing his cape to flutter from the cold win and snow, and began to retreat in the direction of where the wagons and horses were. When he was ten paces away did he finally answer the captain's question.

"Helgen, captain. We are heading to Helgen."

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Wow, holy crap did this take a while. Nearly fifty pages and god knows how many words, but I got it done. Again sorry for taking a while, had a little trouble with the pigs I raise and then had the crap kicked out of me by a cold of all things, but here is chapter two. Now I do apologize if the beginning seemed a little long but I placed it there as a way of showing the massive amount of insanity that Ragna, and by extent the Blazblue cast, had to deal with in their world. It also served as a quick recap for anyone who has not finished the game.**

 **Now I would like to address that while I reffered to the Imperials and the Nords as Romans and Vikings I did so as a way to show that to Ragna he believed to he was facing ancient warriors and not automatically know who they were, but when the P.O.V. change came they were refered to their actual names because of the third-person point of view, so sorry if there was any confusion. Also at the end I did add a little way that the Imperials could keep a hold of Ragna rather than rope (because lets face it even if he was weakened no mere rope would hold him) and it will also explain why in the next chapter he won't just curbstomp everyone else.**

 **And on that subject I would like to address that, yes, I have Ragna down to one arm and eye, but by next chapter it will be rectified in a way, though not bring him back to full power. That will be for way later in the story. Well thanks for reading so far, now onto the reviews.**

 **Azure Legacy:** **Thanks for the positive feed back, and heres chapter two for you.**

 **ArmantusCumPinnae:** **Here you go my friend, an extra long chapter and the promise that more are on the way. :-)**

 **Layperson:** **Huh, I thought trolls only existed in Skyrim and Cyrodiil. This must be a new species.**

 **Well thats all for now. Till next time mates :-)**


	3. Chapter 2: Unbound and Unleashed

**Disclaimer: I do not own Blazblue or the Elder Scrolls series. All related characters and elements are trademarks of Arc Systems Works and Bethesda Game Studios respectively. This work of fiction is done for simple fun and not as a form of monetary gain in any way or form. Thank you and enjoy reading.**

 **Author's Notes: Alright everybody here's chapter three heading your way, the Battle of Helgen and where Ragna will leave his first impression on the land of Skyrim. Without further ado, enjoy.**

"Talking"

'Thinking'

 **"Dragon/Daedric speech"**

 _Flashback/ Passage from book_

 **"Different Dialect"** (i.e. **Dovakiin** , **Zul** , etc.)

{Different Scene}

[Point of View change]

 **"-"*** (Dovahzul, which will be translated in the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter)

* * *

 **-Chapter Two: Unbound and Unleashed-**

Pain. That was the first sign that Ragna received that he was finally returning to a state of consciousness, a dull pain that pulsed in the right side of his head. He also felt an irritating, burning sensation coming from his chest, with a smell of burnt meat wafting to his nose to accompany the burning sensation. Where the scent came from he did not want to know. The finale sense that fully roused him was the fact that he was slightly shaking to and fro in what he guessed was a sitting position, followed after by the sounds of creaking wood, turning wheels on stone, and the slight snorting of horses. Again, where these sounds were coming from he had no clue.

In the end he decided that even if whatever aches and pains that being fully awakened would make him suffer it would be better than simply keeping himself in the dark. Slowly, ever so slowly he began to open his left eye, but his vision was still blurred to whatever it was that had sent him into uncounciouseness in the first place. From what he was able to make out of his fogged vision was that, yes, he was in a sitting position and in what appeared to be some vehicle made of wood, with two blurry shapes in front of his own blurred feet. In an attempt to ease the fog out of his eyes by rubbing them he had then found that his arms were behind his back and unable to move for some reason. Another attempt to move his arms gave him the answer to this mystery via the slight pressure he felt on his wrists and the clinking of what sounded like metal chains. More chains were heard when he attempted to move his feet to rise, only to feel the same pressure around his ankles that he felt on his wrists.

"The hell...happened...ow." he managed to croak out; though he had to stop as the throbbing of his head pulsed harder, momentarily halting his question.

"Ah, it seems our red clothed ally has finally decided to join the land of the living once more. Not yet ready to join Shor's wondrous hall, eh my friend?"

Ragna was a bit surprised to hear someone else so close to him and addressing him in what appeared to be a friendly manner. The way that that this unseen stranger spoke was also puzzling, as he seemed to have what sounded to be a very thick Scandinavian like accent to his gruff voice. Wanting to see who exactly was addressing him Ragna began to vigorously blink his left eye while shaking his head in an attempt to clear his vision since his arms were-by his best guess-cuffed at the moment. As his vision grew ever clearer Ragna was now able to make out that he was sitting in what appeared to be a wooden wagon, staring at his black and red steel-toed boots that now had a lovely pair of iron shackles around his ankles that where anchored to the floor, thus keeping his feet from rising any further.

Looking further ahead to where the voice had come from he noticed that the smudges that he had seen earlier were in fact another pair of feet, but clad in fur trimmed leather boots. Raising his vision higher he was then able to see that this stranger wore quilted leather armor over a short sleeved chain-mail shirt, with a large blue cloth added to his gear. When he raised his vision just a tad higher he was finally met with the stranger's face. He appeared to be a man in his late twenties or early thirties, with bright blond shoulder length hair parted down the middle with a large braid woven into the left side of his hair, and a thick blond beard adorning his face. His eyes were a light blue, standing out more than they should thanks in part to the dirt that stuck to his pale peach skin. The thing that puzzled Ragna the most though was the broad and impish smile that the strange man was aiming his way.

"Who are you? And where am I, ugh..." Ragna managed to groan out as he was once again assaulted by the throbbing in his head and the burning sensation of his chest.

"You mean you don't remember?" The man looked quite positively puzzled at Ragna's question before slowly having his grin return once more. "Well let me be the one to refresh your memory friend. You walked right into an Imperial ambush that was meant for us, and by Shor's bones did you show those dogs that you would not be taken so easily. Fought like a troll that had been drunk on skooma you did, and left more than a few soldiers tasting snow and dirt. Even gave us a shot at gaining freedom, even if it did fail." the man continued, clear admiration laced in each sentence.

'Ambush? What's he...' Ragna began to ask before the memories from before his little blackout came crashing back to him. Drifting in the Boundary, touching the strange sphere, being teleported to a forest and then fighting off what he had assumed to be ancient Romans. Everything up until being struck with what he assumed was lightning magic and then being knocked out via blunt force trauma to the head.

"Yeah...it's all starting, ugh, to come back. Ow. Hey, you know what happed after those assholes blindsided me." he asked the Viking warrior.

"Hmmm, afraid I can't tell you much friend, I only found out what you did as some of my kinsmen where being loaded in their carts. These Imperials wouldn't shut up about how you swatted them around and that they had to ensure that you didn't escape, hence those shiny new cuffs on your hands and feet." the blond man said, making sure to add a healthy dose of sarcasm when mentioning what was keeping Ragna bound.

In an attempt to free his imprisoned hands Ragna began to viciously pull his left hand in the opposite direction of his limp right arm, believing that it would snap due to his strength. He was thus shocked that the only outcome of his action only resulted in slightly rattling his chains but they otherwise held firm and kept him bound. Noticing Ragna's failed attempt at freedom the Viking shook his head in disapproval before trying to gain the Reaper's attention.

"I'd stop if I where you friend."

"Yeah and why's that?"

"Well for starters it's because those cuffs of yours are old slave bands from Morrowind." the Viking began. "Old dark elf magic is infused in them, sapping away your strength and magicka as long as you wear them. Your strength may have helped if you were bound with rope or iron, but unless you have the keys for those shackles, well..." he said, shrugging his shoulders before continuing "let's just say that you should get comfortable riding this wagon, as much as you can anyways."

Groaning in annoyance after the man gave him his advice Ragna simply laid back against his seat and let the cart they were riding slowly sway him to and fro with the motions of the road. It was only after a few seconds of silence that what the man said finally registered in his head.

"Wait a moment, did you say elves? Like actual elves?" Ragna asked, stunned that this man had said the existence of mythical creatures the same way someone would comment on the weather.

"That's what I said friend. I know that those shackles would seem more like something a mage would create, but the dark elves needed them more when they had slaves. Now not so much, on account that the Empire outlawed slavery but those shackles are still good for certain criminals."

Deciding that questioning this man's sanity about believing in smallfolk with pointed ears would just further agitate his growing headache Ragna decided that perhaps just engaging this man in idle conversation would keep him from fully going off the deep end. "So, I'm a criminal now? Great, just great." he grumbled aloud.

"Yep." the blonde haired man confirmed with a small frown. "Though to be fair we are all criminals now under the eyes of the Imperials. You, me, and that thief over there." He accompanied his statement by nudging his head to his left, indicating to someone to the right of Ragna's view. Turning in said direction Ragna was greeted with another bound individual who he had not noticed upon gaining consciousness.

Compared to the Viking this man seemed worse for wear. For starters instead of wearing armor like his fellow cart riding friend-or even anything remotely resembling actual clothes-this man seemed to be wearing a sleeveless shirt and pants that appeared to be made from potato sacks, with a dirty and moth eaten rope being used as a belt to hold said pants up. Instead of shoes or boots this man wore what looked like pieces of wood at the bottom of each foot, with each piece being held in place by a worn and dirty cloth that wrapped around his feet and the wood, forming a crude sandal of sorts. Lastly the man's state of cleanliness was absolutely horrendous, with his skin completely covered in dirt-more so around his eyes, giving him a raccoon like appearance-and his slick-backed brown hair was in complete disarray, with wild tufts tangled here and there with knots and loose hair springing in each direction. The man's most prominent feature though was the animal like sneer he had plastered on his face, a sneer that he was aiming at the blonde Viking upon being mentioned by him.

"Dame you Stormcloaks." the man spat, being sure to put a particular emphasis on the last word to make it seem like the most vile curse word he could think of calling the blonde man. "Skyrim was fine until all of you came along. Empire was nice and lazy; letting most of us minor criminals fly right under their notice. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell by now dammit!" The man's beady eyes darted to Ragna after saying his piece to the blonde, a small spark in his eyes and a crooked smile crossing his mouth. "You there. You and I, we both shouldn't be here friend; we are just victims of circumstances. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants, not us."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now thief." the now identified Stormcloak shot back, sending the worst stink eye he could back at the dirty thief.

"For the love of Mara, shut up back there! If I have to listen to you scum squabble more I'll stop this cart and give you something to complain about!"

Turning to the voice Ragna came to see that it was the driver of their cart that issued the threat. By the brown leather helm and the visible armor Ragna was able to distinguish that the man was one of the Roman soldiers that he had fought earlier, or Imperial as the Stormcloak called them.

"You really wanna go there pal? You know what I did to the last assholes that threatened me, and the rest who tried to out muscle me, right?" Ragna responded back in a low tone. "I easily wiped the floor with almost forty of you guys, and that's that I was injured, so ask yourself if you really want to follow in their footsteps."

"Y-You can threaten me all you want, but so long as you're bound your threats are meaningless Stormcloak." their driver shot back, though his voice had sounded a little on the high pitch side. The soldier had tried to sound intimidating in reinstating to Ragna that he was bound, but the stutter at the beginning of his retort and the stiffening of his posture betrayed whatever bravado he had tried to project. As Ragna was preparing to take a jab at the man's fear their cart was suddenly jolted by a rather harsh bump along the path they were traveling, causing them to slightly jump but outright tossing the more lilith thief forward and had him landing face first into the lap of a fourth passenger of their cart, who Ragna had not noticed.

"Humph!" the fourth man groaned as the thief collided with him and then harshly kneed the bound thief back to his respective side of the cart.

"Gah! And just what's your-," the thief began, only to cut his angry rant short as he, and in a sense Ragna as well, got a good look at their new companion. He was a man who appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties at the most, as indicated by the marks along his eyes and wrinkles on his weathered face. His brown-blonde hair was styled in a slick-backed style with two braids made on either side of his face, and an equally brown-blonde well-trimmed mustache-beard combo as his signature facial hair. He appeared to be a man of importance, as instead of leather armor or rags this man was dressed in fine attire, from an extravagant steel chest armor with what looked like a chain mail shirt underneath it and a thick black cloak made from what appeared to be bear fur worn over it, sturdy but finely made furred boots, and well decorated and polished steel and leather fingerless gauntlets. Much like the thief and the blonde he also appeared to have his hands bound by rope, though he had an extra restraint in the form of a rag that was tightly wrapped around his mouth as a improvised mouth gag, preventing him from speaking.

Ragna found it strange that the Imperials, as they were called, had believed that this particular prisoner should be gagged, but otherwise chose not to comment on it. The dirty thief on the other hand decided to question the man's state of restraint in a subtle like manner.

"What's the deal with this one? Was he so rabid that the Imperials gagged him so he wouldn't bite others?" the thief asked the blonde to his left, with no shred of decency to be heard in his voice.

'Ooookay.' Ragna thought as he sweat dropped at the blunt and insulting way the thief asked his question, though he still chose to stay silent to see if the Stormcloak would say anything that would answer why the man was gagged.

For his part the blonde man nearly threw himself at the thief, his face morphed into one of complete anger at the man for having insulted his companion. "Watch your tongue filth! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

To Ragna the significance of the man's name flew right over his head, though he did take an interest in the fact that the blonde man referred to him as a king and that he, and in a sense those who were rebels like him, chose to name themselves after this man. Interesting as it was it served him little in knowing this man's name and occupation. The thief on the other hand seemed to have a completely different reaction in finding out the man's identity.

"U-Ulfric Stormcloak!? The Jarl of Windhelm!?" The thief's head snapped back to the gagged man and a look of utter terror began to spread across his face. Whatever color that could be seen under the thick layer of dirt on his skin quickly drained of color until he was as white as a ghost. "You're the leader of the rebellion. B-But if they captured you then...t-then...Oh gods, where are they taking us!?"

The blonde Stormcloak chose to answer the thief's hysteric question by calming down and letting his eye sight shift downward till he was looking at the floor of the cart. No longer was his face twisted into an angry snarl, but was instead replaced with a grave and downcast expression. "I don't know where we're going. All I do know is that Sovngarde awaits us at the end." he replied solemnly, sounding more akin to that of a man who was ready to meet his maker.

"No. Nonononono. This can't be happening. This isn't happening!" the thief cried out, his chest heaving as he began to hyperventilated while he had what looked like a small break down.

"Knock that shit off."

Surprised at the sudden statement the thief halted his mental break down and, along with both the blonde and gagged man, turned to the one who spoke. Said person being none other than Ragna, with a look of utter annoyance plastered on his face. A look that was directed at the thief, for obvious reasons.

"Listen I might not know much about what's happening, and I know that it looks like we're knee deep in shit-"

"Knee deep? Knee deep he says, I think we are well past knee deep at this point!" the thief interrupted

"Ok so we're neck deep in shit. The point is that that we can't lose our minds just yet or we'll really be screwed. Just keep your shit together and we'll make it through this." Though his speech was nowhere near as gentle in its approach it did have the desired effect that Ragna was aiming for, shutting the thief up for the time being. Sadly the newfound silence was replaced with the sound of wooden wheels scraping against stone as their wagon began to slow down.

"Whoa girl. Steady now, steady." their driver said as he pulled on the horse's reins, bringing their wagon to a slower pace. Wanting to see why they were now slowing down Ragna turned to his left until he could see what was in front of them. What he saw was a rather long line of wagons in front of theirs, filled to the brim with other Stormcloaks who were bound as his traveling companions were, but that was not the reason why they slowed down. The real reason came in the form of an imposing wooden gate, reinforced with iron beams and bolts, nestled into a stone wall. Walking along the top of said imposing gate was a group of Imperial soldiers, fully armored and carrying bows and quivers full of arrows.

"The convoy of Stormcloak prisoners has arrived! Open the gates and send to have the headsman ready!" one of the archers shouted behind the wall. Shortly after the gates began to groan as they swung open, allowing wagons to begin to filter through and lead the prisoners closer to their fates.

"Headsman? Did he say headsman!? Oh dear Divines help me. Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh, please save me." If the thief had been scared before he was absolutely shiting bricks now, and the frantic prayers he was sending to his aforementioned gods only helped reinforce the direness of their situation.

"I thought I told you to pull yourself together! The more you freak out the harder it will be to find a way out of this." Ragna shouted to the sniveling thief, though it seemed that his words had fallen on deft ears as the thief continued to mutter frantic prayers. For a moment Ragna considered the thief lucky that he had his hands and legs cuffed so he could not knock him upside the head for his repeated freak outs. Of course if his hands had been free to slug the thief then he would also be able to kill their guard and escape, but Ragna believed that more important priorities had to come first in this hypothetical situation, namely shutting the thief up to get rid of one headache.

"Hey, what village are you from horse thief?" the blonde Stormcloak asked the panicking man out of the blue, though why he asked such a question Ragna did not know.

"Why do you care?" the thief questioned back, taking a moment to halt his prayers.

"Just answer the question."

"Rorikstead. I'm...I'm from Rorikstead. Why did you ask?"

The blonde chose to stare the thief straight in his eyes, his expression calm and unwavering. "Because a Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

He had most likely said this in an attempt to calm the thief or to bring him to accept the situation they were in. It did not go as planned. Scratch that, it did not work at all.

"W-What!? Last thoughts? No, nononononoIdon'twanttodieIdon'twanttodieIdon'twanttodie!" the thief began to freak out, rambling like a mad man. The fourth prisoner chose this moment to roll his eyes and groan through his gag at his companions failed attempt at calming down the criminal.

"Great. Nice going pal." Ragna groaned, his face set in a deadpanned stare at the man's attempt to calm the thief. Deciding to try and find something else to distract him from the thief's mental breakdown (because bound or not if he continued to listen to the man's crazed ravings then he was going to shut him up even if it killed him) Ragna simply focused on the ever nearing gate to see what he had to deal with. He did not have to wait long as their cart was already at the gates.

As their wagon crossed the threshold he was greeted with the sight of a small village just beyond the gates that had seemed to have been ripped right out of medieval times. The cottages that were meant for civilians were made of lumber-oak or pine most likely-and here and there the homes had straw roofs, while the more sturdier structures hade flat roofs made entirely out of wood. The street was made of cobblestone and weathered by the looks of it, most likely from the passing of trading carts and traveling peasants. And just about every direction that Ragna set his sight on he found a banner on display that flew the strange diamond shaped dragon symbol the Imperial soldiers had, though it was now in a dark red color on a black background. If he had not believed that he had somehow traveled back in time then he was now most certainly convinced that he had, and wound up pissing off the soldiers of the government from this world..

"I'm not in Kagutsuchi anymore, that's for sure." Ragna mumbled as they finally passed through, but just as their wagon was turning to continue down its path someone-and by the feminine tone of the voice a women-shouted "Halt!", bringing their wagon to an abrupt stop. Wanting to see who had ordered that their ride came to a momentary halt Ragna turned in the direction of the voice, and in doing so had come upon a group of individuals who immediately caught his attention. "Who the hell is he, and more importantly who or what the fuck are those?" he asked the blonde Stormcloak. Turning to see who Ragna was talking about the man first had a look of surprise flash across his face before it morphed into a scowl directed at the members who appeared to have a small meeting not too far from their wagon.

The first individual present was a man who looked like a high standing officer of these Imperial soldiers, if his bronze Roman like cuirass, bronze skirt and bright crimson cape were anything to go on. His white hair and tanned skin spoke of an aged warrior, and the fact that he was riding atop a massive dark brown horse in a gold and crimson saddle added to the visage of a highly decorated individual, but he was not the one who Ragna referred to. No, who he referred to were the three individuals opposite of this man.

All three of the individuals rode atop gold-chestnut colored horses, with saddles that where made of golden silk and white leather. Of the three the ones to the right and to the left of the middle individual appeared to be males and were armed for battle, wearing armor that appeared to be made of gold. Their helmets resembled an eagle's visage while their cuirass had what looked like an eagle like beak as a neckgaurd. The gauntlets and boots they wore also had a bird like theme going for them, such as how the wrists of their gauntlets were fashioned to look like feathers and the shins also repeating said feather design. Even the swords sheathed at their sides appeared to be made of gold and repeated the bird theme by having the hand guards resemble the spread wings of an eagle.

The middle individual was easier to distinguish from the trio, as she appeared to be the only female of the three (thus by process of elimination was the one who had issued the order for them to stop) and was not wearing armor of any sort. Instead she choose to done an ankle length black robe that was opened in the middle but was held closed by three small leather straps near the chest and was decorated with gold trimmings that were more prominent around the shoulders, chest, and sleeves of the robe, though her curves seemed to have said gold trimmings to appear more...*ahem*...visible. The gloves she wore seemed to be made from black silk, having a thin piece of black metal overlapping the knuckles that held three small spikes over the wrists and a small black stone nearing the knuckles. Even her boots seemed to be made from the same thin black metal, resembling light armor that was decorated with gold along the edges, and unlike her two companions she wore no helmet or hood so her long platinum-blonde hair could be seen.

The reason that these three individuals had caught Ragna's attention more than the decorated Imperial was because unlike the aged soldier these three were definitively not humans in anyway. Oh they appeared humanoid in shape, sure, but that was where the similarities ended with them and regular humans. The first difference between them and the Imperials or Stormcloaks was that their body frames appeared to be more lilith than the burly men Ragna had encountered-even if the two males were donned in armor-so they seemed to be more frail looking in nature. The second difference was that their ears were pointed. They were not curved, they were not elongated, and they were most certainly not enhanced by cosmetics, but were in all aspects actually-and by the looks of it naturally-pointy. The finale difference that brought home the fact that they were not humans was the fact that their skin color was not a tan, peach, or even pale color pigment that a normal man would have, but rather their skin was a dull or even brazenly bright shade of gold. Even their eye colors appeared to be made from the precious metal, like as if melted gold had been poured into their iris to create brilliant shimmering pools to match their skin. So entranced was Ragna by these new and strange people that it took him a second to realize that his blonde companion had started to whisper to him as to who they were.

"Be wary friend, the man in the bronze armor is General Tullius, The Military Governor. That bastard is the reason why we're in chains." The way that he harshly whispered to Ragna who the bronze warrior was indicated that he held no love for the man. This was also reinforced in the death glare that the blonde sent his way, promising the man a painful death if he were to be unbound.

"And the others?" Ragna questioned, though the way that the blonde's face changed to a deadpanned expression he concluded that the question must have been quite silly to have asked. 'Oh who cares if it's a stupid question, I need answers dammit.' he thought to himself in an attempt to justify his reason for asking his inquiry. Still, the way that the man continued to stare at him made him feel like a certain intellectually impaired mule.

"Have you been living under a rock friend?" the Stormcloak asked but turned back to the three before Ragna could respond. If his hatred for the general-Tullius was it?-was great then his hatred to the other three was dame near off the charts if his bared teeth and the seething glare he sent their way was anything to go by. He looked less like a man and more like a feral bear, ready to throw himself at them at a moment's notice. "Those are the Thalmor. Dame elves, I bet they were the ones who found where we would be. And of course they just had to send their personal attack dog to catch us."

Ragna was not sure what he found more surprising, the amount of negative energy that the blonde was giving off just by being near these four, or the fact that he found out that elves actually existed (and by the sound of it were not well liked by the natives here).

As Ragna began to wonder just where the hell he had ended up-and as his new found friends continued to either stare like rabid animals at the golden elves or continued to snivel a prayer or two out (mostly the thief)-the driver of their wagon turned to the company of strange individuals, a questioning look upon his face.

"General Tullius, what seems to be the problem sir?"

Tullius left whatever conversation he was having with the three elves come to an end as he turned and addressed the soldier's inquiry. "Nothing to worry about soldier, just continue riding to the watchtowers. The headsman is already waiting and its best to let him get started in his duty. The sooner we finish this the better." His voice was crisp and to the point, as dignified by a man of his military standing. The way that his steel grey eyes bore into the soldier also made it a point that his word was to be followed without any questioning unless the soldier was ready to endure a harsh punishment for any form of insubordination.

"By your orders Gen-"

"I believe I had ordered the convoy to come to a stop General. Or has the passage of time finally taken a toll on your hearing as well as your appearance, hmm?" a feminine voice rang out, having come from the she-elf. Her voice was as smooth as silk, but if one listened closely they would be able to hear the thinly veiled venom held in it, such as the jeering tone she had asked her question in that made it clear that it was to be taken as more of an insult rather than an inquiry.

All eyes-be them from a solider, rebel, otherworldly traveler (Ragna), or snooping civilian emerging from their home-turned to the she-elf of the trio. Though her face seemed mirthfully calm at the question she had asked her eyes spoke a different story. Those shining golden eyes flashed with sly cunning as they scanned the General's features the same way a hawk would study its prey, almost as if to try and see if she had riled the General in any way all while disguising her true intent under a friendly mask. Tullius, for his part, simply sighed while shaking his head in clear frustration before composing himself to convey the image of a steeled warrior once more.

"We've been over this already Elenwen. These rebels are traitors of the Empire thus they fall under our jurisdiction, not yours. You Thalmor have no right to them or get to decide what punishment they should receive since it will be Empire justice that will dictate their fate, not Dominion justice." Tullius's response was collected and with nary a trace of hesitation, showing that no matter what counter argument the now named Elenwen would say would not change his stance on the matter. Elenwen's face seemed unchanged by the general's rebuttal, but the tiny, almost microscopic, twinge at the left corner of her lips gave the impression that she had been ready to counter just such a refusal.

"Oh but Tullius I believe they do fall under our jurisdiction." As her honeyed voice dripped with condescending mirth at her statement she snapped the reins of her horse, causing it to give a slight neigh before it began to trot closer to the wagons, or more specifically to the right side of the wagon that Ragna was currently riding on. As the she-elf was within arm's reach of the wagon she began to take in the sight of each occupant while she continued to address Tullius. "After all is it not the right of a Justiciar to root out followers of Talos? If my memory serves me right I believe that the Stormcloaks made it quite clear that they were devote followers of that heathen cult. So yes I do believe that they fall under our...care. Wouldn't you agree General?" Her eyes continued to wander as she addressed the General, first landing on the enraged blonde Stormcloak, then the dirt covered thief that cowered away from her intense gaze, before finally lingering on the gagged Ulfric, seeming to take more amusement at spotting him. A slight hum of amusement left her lips, causing the man to growl behind his gag.

"Their religious beliefs aside Elenwen, the Stormcloaks are more a threat to the security and stability of Skyrim than to impeding your hunt for Talos worshipers. Also now that they are in **our** custody we can bring this infernal war to an end once and for all, so no matter what you say they are our responsibility and as such they will remain in Imperial custody, no ifs, ands, or buts." Despite how Tullius seemed steadfast in his decision and showed no outward expression to Elenwen's persistence internally it was an entirely different story as he was already at his wits end.

"Oh Tullius you're so amusing~." Elenwen responded with a smile and a smug sing-song like voice, the most emotion she expressed so far in their talk. Any other person who would have seen her beaming appearance would have been entranced by her radiant smile and her alluring melodic voice, but to Ragna her face spoke less of beauty and more of a cunning predator masking her true nature. A wolf walking among sheep. "While I understand your stance in this matter you must also understand that we are just trying to enforce the law as well. Need I remind you of the terms from...huh?" Her smugness was momentarily halted when, as she continued to stare at the gagged Ulfric, noticed that while his hands were bound they were not restrained with a certain pair of shackles but instead with common rope, tightly wound around his wrists until they were at the point of drawing a small trickle of blood. "Tullius, where are the slave bands we had provided to you for the mission? Don't tell me you have...misplaced them?"

"Nothing of the sort, after all the amount we would have to repay for misplacing them after you had "generously" provided them would have been outrageous. We simply put them to better use." Tullius assured her.

Before she could question what the man meant by "putting them to better use" she heard a slight rattle of chains coming just to the left of where Ulfric was sitting in the wagon. Turning to the sound she found something-or more specifically someone-who caught her interest. Why he had intrigued her was due in part to his pale, almost white, skin that was matched in color by his mane of spiked white hair, but it was his attire that set him apart from the other occupants. He donned a bright crimson coat that was decorated with black belts but was otherwise bare chested (mostly due to the black shirt he wore beneath the coat being utterly burnt away), large baggy black pants that were slightly torn, and red and black steeled-toed boots. What was most curious about him though was the dark grey and rune etched shackles that peeked out from behind him and his heavily restrained ankles that had caught her attention.

Wanting to take a closer look at this man Elenwen nudged her horse's sides so that it would move to the left side of the wagon. As she moved she noticed that the man would follow her movement, making sure that she never left his line of sight until she finally came to a stop at what she deemed a preferable distance between herself and the wagon. She studied his features with the same sharp gaze that she had given Tullius, but as she took in his features she noticed that he was also studying her, his functioning left eye scanning her face with an almost calculating interest. So there they were, two people studying one another and neither willing to be the first to break eye contact. Twin golden spheres waging a battle of wills against a single unyielding emerald eye.

"And just who exactly is this?" Elenwen questioned in an intrigued voice, which vastly clashed with her now emotionless features.

"He is simply one of the rebels we caught in our ambush. No one to concern yourself with." Tullius assured as he rode his horse until he was in front of Elenwen, blocking her view of the strange man. "And he will be dealt with along with the other Stormcloaks, by **our** hands." His tone was no longer aggravated or strained, but hardened and athourative, making sure that there was no more room for argument or interference. The whole town seemed to have decided to go deathly quiet at that very moment, making there stand-off more intense than it should be.

"..."

"..."

"Fine. Do with them as you please." Elenwen dismissed herself with a dignified turn of her head before moving her horse to return to the side of her two companions, her face set in an emotionless mask. Others may not have noticed it but Tullius did not live to his ripe age without having developed a keen eye for detail and was thus able to see through her stoic facade, because though her face hid it well her eyes showed him that she was positively livid at giving in to him. Smiling at his victory Tullius turned around to address the driver of the wagon.

"You have your orders soldier; now see to it that they are completed. Carry on." A quick nod and a proud "Yes sir." was the soldier's only response before he snapped the reins of his horse, allowing their wagon to continue on its path deeper into the village. Continuing onward to their final destination, and with an ever growing following of curious villagers on their tail, the blonde Stormcloak turned to address Ragna.

"Do you know what village we're in friend?"

"Not really." Ragna chose to respond. 'Hell I don't even know what time period or world I've ended up in, much less what this place is called.'

The man turned his head to the side, his eyes slowly glazing over as he began to have a far-off look on his face. "This is Helgen. It's a quiet place, and just about nothing exciting ever happens here." Though he spoke as if the village was unimpressive the small melancholy smile that spread across his face spoke more of how he believed in the exact opposite, viewing this village as a trove of wonderful memories rather than a dull destination. "I used to be sweet on a girl here. Beautiful she was, with hair as gold as wheat and eyes the purest green you'd have ever seen." He let out a small sad sigh before continuing. "I bet she's already married now. Kids and all. She deserves it though, that kind of happy life." Ragna chose to just grunt in acknowledgment, letting the man to continue to reminisce on days long gone.

As the wagon continued on its path it passed a particular dwelling along the way. It seemed to look just like all the other wooden homes that they had passed, but it was slightly larger than the rest and was further set apart from the others by the sign that was hung from the porch of the dwelling that depicted a cluster of grapes on the left side and a large green bottle on the right. This house must have been important in the Stormcloak's memories as well because on spotting it his face became slightly more uplifted. "Ah, there's old man Vilod's inn. Best drinks this side of Falkreath and more affordable than that Blackbriar swill too. I wonder if he still makes that mead with juniper berries mixed in it?"

Whatever fond memories that he had yet to tell Ragna were forgotten as he stared at his bound hands and his smiling face was replaced with a somber expression. Raising his head up he stared Ragna right in the eyes as he continued to have a one sided conversation with him. "You know what's ironic in all of this friend?"

"That now would really be a good time to have a drink but we can't use our hands?" was Ragna's response. It might not have been the most cleaver thing to say but it did help relieve some of the depressing atmosphere, if the small laughter of his traveling companion was anything to go on.

"Heh he. Well yes there's that too but that's not what I meant." His smile had slowly returned to brighten his face but it also held a small amount of pained sadness to it. "The irony is that there was a time in my life where I thought this to be the safest place in the world. When I was but a wee boy these Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe and secure. Now...now all I feel is that this is the place where it will all end for me."

"Hey don't you go and start going crazy like the thief now." Ragna began to say. He did not personally know the blonde man, hell he had just met him only a few minutes ago for crying out loud. But seeing him giving up so fast and how depressed he looked, well it reminded him of all the times in his past when he had thought about calling it quits in his pursuit of Terumi, or how when the path he traveled became too much to bear he had wanted to just give up...but he didn't. His pried, stubbornness and rage kept him going, but more than anything it was the promise that he had made to someone dear that had him refuse defeat time and time again. It was a promise made between him...and **her**.

'Rachel...'

 _"Listen to me. Never admit defeat. Endure whatever pain you may face, and fight until your last breath as a human being. Even if you are ugly, and pathetic, and broken...Please, Ragna."_

"Listen it's like I said, we'll get through this. I don't know how but we are not going to die here like a couple of bitches. Somehow we'll bust out of here, and you can go right back to kicking these assholes asses and I'll go my own way." The cocky smile he sent at the warrior was a way to add to the fact on how strongly he believed in his words. "We'll get through this you'll see, and even if we don't well it's better to have these basterds earn their kills than let them take us out so easily."

For his part the blonde (and to an extent Ulfric as well, having heard Ragna's reassuring speech) was stunned silent by Ragna's words before he let a smile cross his face. "Aye, I think I'll agree with you my friend. Better to die on our feet than live on our knees."

His message of encouragement having done its wonders Ragna began to lean back in his seat and scan the village as they continued onward, hoping to find some passage or opening that he could exploit when he made his daring escape later. 'You know I should become a motivational speaker if I make it through this. I am freaking good at it.' Continuing to praise his crude pep talks Ragna's attention was drawn to a small home coming to the left of their cart, mostly due to the small boy sitting on the porch of the dwelling and the mountain of a man that stood just behind said child. As they drew closer he was able to make out the conversation that the two began to have upon spotting their ride.

"Who are they daddy? Where are they going?" the boy asked, clear wonder and curiosity laced in his voice. His father, as the boy had indicated the burly man to be, simply crossed his arms before letting out a long and tired sigh.

"It's none of our concern, now come along. You need to get inside little cub."

"Why? I want to stay and watch the soldiers. Look, everyone else is following them." the boy replied as he pointed to the gaggle of villagers flocking just behind the convoy of wagons. They were likely trying to see what the Imperial soldiers were planning to do with the rebels, and also get a good view if an execution was to take place. The boy's father though was not intrigued by such spectacle and was not about to let his son see anything if it proved to be more than a simple transfer of prisoners.

"Inside the house. Now." There was no room for negotiation in the fathers powerful tone, and he made it all the more clear for his son by the tapping of his foot and the straightening of his massive posture.

"Fine." the boy glumly replied, mumbling small curses and arguments to himself as he entered their home.

As entertaining as their little exchange was Ragna let his focus shift back to the direction of their traveling wagon and continued to scan the area for anyway to turn this situation to his advantage. So far he was able to come up with a few escape routes but not any means for escaping his magical binds. To make matters worse it appeared that their convoy was already at their destination, this assumption being due to the fact that their wagon was nearing an archway made of grey stone that separated the civilian half of the village and what looked like a military compound on the other side. From what he could see Ragna was able to make out two watch towers to the left and right of the courtyard of the garrison, and just up ahead he saw that the wagons holding the other rebels prisoners began to line up in neat rows, horses facing twords the stone wall separating the village while the backs of the wagons facing forward, allowing the prisoners of the other wagons to begin to unload under the watchful eyes of armed soldiers.

"Whoa now. That'll do old girl." their driver said as he pulled the reins of his horse to stop its ride. After coming to a complete stop he hopped off the driver's seat and began to tie the rein to a horse stand near the wall, which gave the occupants of said wagon enough time to talk amongst themselves.

"W-Why are we stopping?" the thief asked, seeming to finally return to his senses long enough to notice their lack of movement, though his wide eyed stare indicated that he was still held in the clutches of anxiety and fear of a man deeply swept in the sea of paranoia.

"Oh you know, theses Imperials are going to offer us milk and sweet rolls after giving us a nice ride. Why do you think we're stopping thief?" the blonde Stormcloak mockingly asked before nudging his head to the back of the wagon. Following the direction the thief's eyes widened to near comical size as he spotted a group of Imperial soldiers heading in the direction of their stationary wagon, swords drawn and at the ready. "It's the end of the line. Let's go, we shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us." he added, rising from his sitting position before jumping off the wagon and in front of the troops who quickly swarmed him with their swords pointed at his face, ushering him to the side along with the other prisoners. Following his lead the gagged Ulfric rose and jumped off next and the same process was repeated with him.

"No! No wait, there's been a mistake! Look I'm not one of them, I'm not a rebel!" the thief began the shout as he refused to rise from the wagon. The soldiers, seeing as the thief was making the process of unloading him more difficult than it should normally be, had one of their own climb up into the wagon and harshly hoist the frail thief by his elbow before shoving him out the exit and onto his back on the ground. Two other soldiers then came forward and raised the fallen thief to his feet before dragging him to the side, joining the ranks of the every growing group of Stormcloaks. "No! No! Please, I'm not one of them! I don't deserve this!"

"By the Divines man, where's your sense of Nordic pride? Just shut up and face your death with some courage thief." Ragna's blonde wagon companion spoke from the side, his peeved tone and the scornful expression showing just what he felt at the man's pitiful attempt at self-preservation by turning into a sniveling mess. His actions also made Ragna a little annoyed as his constant spazing was creating a scene and both soldiers and villagers were staring at their wagon because of him.

'Why did I have to end up with this spaz?' Ragna groaned to himself, though he did not have long to dwell on his question as the soldier that had climbed aboard the wagon then began to near his position, fishing a single key from his belt and began to kneel in front of him. At first Ragna was confused until he noticed that the Imperial was attempting to unshackle his ankle restraints to allow him to leave the wagon. 'What do you know, this can be my ticket out of here. I just gotta wait until this schmuck unshackles me, kick him in the face, and then-' The feeling of sharpened steel pressed against his jugular stopped his train of thought dead in its tracks.

"Don't move a single muscle, scum. We are not taking any chances with you and if you so much as twitch without our say so we'll gut you like a trout." While Ragna had been planning his escape he had not noticed another of the soldiers sneaking around his back and only now realized his folly as the man had an arm encircling him and pointing a steel dagger at his neck.

"Dame, and I was just about to do just that. Kill all of my fun why don't you." Ragna snarkly replied back, trying to make light of the situation he was in. The feeling of the dagger pressing closer to his neck told him that the solider did not find his joke as amusing as he did. "Jeez it was just a joke, lighten up will ya."

Deciding that perhaps now was not the right time to spring his escape Ragna allowed the solider kneeled in front of him to finish unshackling his feet in peace. The satisfying clink of loosened metal indicated that he had finished his duty. He then unsheathed his gladius sword before he reached over and grabbed Ragna by his shoulder, nodding in the direction of his brother in arms to signal that he now had the situation under control. Taking the man's hint the other Imperial let his blade leave Ragna's neck and allowed the other soldier to raise him to his feet before shoving him to the wagons exit.

"Move, and no funny business."

Doing as the soldier ordered Ragna jumped off the cart and began to move in the direction of the other prisoners before they had given him permission to, mostly because it was a petty way to show them that he would not always listen to what they said. This small act of defiance resulted in four men swarming around him with swords at the ready, and if the slight tremble of their hands indicated anything it was that they were on edge, especially around him. Despite this display of hostility Ragna continued walking until he was among the rest of the prisoners, though the four soldiers continued to loom close to him, eyes on him like a swarm of hawks.

"Who's he? And why are the Imperials all worked up by him?"

"Must have killed a lot of soldiers if they had him that secured. Maybe he's one of them berserker Stormcloaks. I mean just look at how his clothes are tattered, that makes him look like a bloody fierce fighter, it does."

"Can't be. Look he's wearing red, not blue, and he's not wearing armor."

"Maybe he's a sell sword who they had hired. Poor bastered just had to pick the losing side."

If the thief's begging had warranted the collection of villager's interest then the way that the soldiers were treating Ragna like a ferocious beast just ready to snap had definitely gained their attention. If one of them was not asking fifty questions about who he was then they were tossing around assumptions that he was a dangerous or insane individual who had killed soldiers for fun. I did not help Ragna's image that his shirt was ripped open and his pants where shredded, thus seeming to give more credibility in leading more of the villagers to believe that he was some sort of battle crazed maniac.

'Hey now that's just not true. Trust me I know someone who beats me in that department by a longshot.' he thought to himself while remembering a certain blue haired "Mad Dog" he had fought. '*sigh* I guess that no matter where I wide up I'll always somehow get a bad reputation.'

While the crowed continued to mummer amongst themselves three soldiers came forward to stand in front of the gathered rebel prisoners. The first of the three was a dark skinned women and judging by the heavy steel armor and the steel centurion helmet she wore she was a captain among the Imperial soldiers. The other two who stood by either side of her were lower classed soldiers compared to her, but their armors were slightly different than the standard run of the mill leather armor that the Imperial troops seemed to wear. The difference that set their armor apart was that their variants seemed to have a thicker layer of leather to every piece they wore so they appeared more bulky, and that the leather collar of the suit was replaced with chainmail to add more protection from attacks to the neck or from the back. Both men also wore no helmet so their hair could be seen, the man at the left of the captain having short trimmed black hair and beard while the man to the right had shoulder length brown hair and had a clean shaved face. While both men carried swords sheathed at their waists they instead chose to come prepared with a stick of charcoal in one hand and a clipboard in the other. Why they chose such armaments was made clear as the captain raised her hand to silence the villagers.

Once the chatter of the townsfolk died down to agreeable levels the captain cleared her throat before standing at attention, strength and discipline radiating in her stance. "Alright, listen well because I am only going to say this once. When we call your name you are to step forward to be registered and then state your village of origin, after which you will then walk to the block. Do not test my patience and come forward one at a time!"

After issuing her order the captain turned to nod at both soldiers at her side so that they could begin their diligent cataloging of the Stormcloaks.

"Jorcmmeck, step forward." The man to the right of the captain called out, resulting in a brunet man to walk forward and stand in front of him.

"I'm from Windhelm." the named man spat, allowing the brown haired Imperial to write down the name before pointing to the left, indicating where the man was to walk to reach the chopping block.

"Rikith, step forward." the second soldier called out, drawing a red headed female from the ranks of the prisoners.

"Dawnstar" the aforementioned woman growled to the black haired man, quickly walking to the chopping block before he could finish writing down the holds name.

That was how it went for a few minutes, the Imperials calling out names to draw people forward, check them off their lists before they then wrote down where they originated from, and then sent them off to wait at the execution site until everyone was accounted for. In all honesty Ragna was expecting some sort of quick execution, so this slow and drawn out way of accounting for each prisoner was causing him to be bored out of his mind.

Noticing his boredom the blonde Stormcloak leaned in close to talk to him. "These Imperials and their love for lists, eh friend." he said in an annoyed tone.

"Yeah. If this goes on any longer I'll be dead from boredom rather than by execution." Ragna answered back in an annoyed tone. The blonde must have found it quite funny as he let out a loud bark of laughter at Ragna's response, which was soon joined with a chuckle here and there from any other prisoner who was near enough to hear their conversation.

"Quiet down! You will remain silent until you are called forward, no exceptions." The captain yelled out to silence the laughter of the prisoners. Any other sane person who would have heard the razor sharp tone of her voice would have complied with her request of silence so as not to further kindle her growing anger. Unfortunately for her Ragna was not a man known for following someone's orders even with the threat of death.

"Wow, I've met some pretty uptight people before but the stick shoved up your ass must have been turned sideways." he yelled in annoyance from his position among the Stormcloaks, and the resonating sound of their thundering laughter showed how humorous the rebels found his comment to be. Even a few snickers were heard coming from the gathered villagers, some trying to remain as straight faced as possible when some of the soldiers turned in their direction. The captain did not find his comment as funny as everyone else if her crimson face and the growing tic mark on her head was anything to go on.

"I said silence! One more outburst and I'll order your executions here and now!" she roared, having abandoned whatever military discipline she had as her honor was insulted. Quieting down the prisoners let the soldiers resume their lists, though the occasional giggle could be heard by those who had not been called up. That slight merriment that remained in them was then silenced once they heard the name of the next man to step forward.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

Silence. Complete and utter silence filled the air as every pair of eyes turned to the man in question, with the prisoners parting to either side as to present him from the back of the group. Bound and gagged as he was Ulfric still chose to retain as much honor as he could despite his circumstances, so he straightened his tall back, proudly puffed out his chest, and set his steeled gaze forward with no sign of hesitation or worry in his eyes. As he walked forward with a confident stride that radiated a feel of authority with each step the men and women that where on either side of his path began to bow their heads in respect, an act that spoke volumes of how highly the thought of him.

As he left, Ragna's companion followed his kinsmen's action and bowed his head in respect for his monarch. "It has been an honor to serve alongside you, Jarl Ulfric."

Once Ulfric was standing in front of the dark haired Imperial the man wrote down that he was accounted for but did not ask him where he hailed from, mostly because he was gagged but also because he had announced it when he had summoned him forward, so he simply pointed him to the block once he was finished. With the same air of authority Ulfric began his walk to his final destination, never once looking back and walked with the proud stride befitting a king. As he left the brown haired soldier then looked at his sheet before calling out the next person to step forward, though for some reason his expression became somewhat pained and filled with regret. "Ralof, step forward."

Ragna was slightly taken aback when his new blonde companion began to walk forward, but then reminded himself that he had never bothered asking his name, so only now as he was called forward did he finally have a name to go with his face. Oh well. As the now named Ralof stood in front of the brown haired man he sent him a withering glare, but also held sadness in his eyes as he stared the soldier down.

"You of all people should already know where I'm from Hadvar. Or have you already forgotten me, old friend?"

Hadvar, as the man was named, just looked off to the side before returning a hardened gaze to Ralof.

"State your village of origin Stormcloak." His voice was athorative and cold, but a slight tint of regret could still be heard if one listened close enough.

"So this is how you want it to be, huh?" Ralof asked. Hadvar chose to remain silent. "Fine, be that way. Riverwood." After saying his village's name Ralof leaned forward and spat at Hadvar's feet, turning to walk off to the chopping block before he could be told where to go, leaving behind a downcast Hadvar to reflect on the man's words and actions. Seeing that his fellow soldier was still upset from the exchange the black haired Imperial tried to take any attention away from him by quickly calling out the next name on the list.

"Lokir, step for-"

"NO!" a familiar voiced howled in primal fear, causing some of the prisoners and guards to cringe at both the volume and the hysterical tone it held. Ragna groaned before he turned to find, with no surprise, that the horrified cry had originated from the filthy thief who he had shared the wagon ride here with. The man began to jolt himself left and right from between the two guards that held him since he had been taken from the cart. Having none of his bullshit the guards began to drag him forward while he tried to slow them down by letting his feet drag on the floor, but his attempt at halting his advancement forward was moot as he was now standing in front of the both the Imperial catalogers and their captain. "Listen, you're making a mistake! I'm not one of them!"

"State your village of origin sir and we'll be done with this." the black haired Imperial replied bluntly, taking no notice that the thief was becoming more agitated by the second.

"No, I-"

"State what village you hail from sir." The soldier replied more sternly.

"No. I-I...I-" the thief blabbered out, but as he saw that his please would not be heard-and believing that his death was assured the moment he was taken to the chopping block-the thief did something so drastic and filled with desperation that it caught everyone off guard, especially the soldiers. He turned and spat in the face of one of his handlers before whirling to the other side and repeated the process, scoring direct hits to their eyes that both momentarily blinded them and caused them to release their hold of his arms. Faster than any of the soldiers could react the thief then bolted past them with the captain only able to shout a quick "Halt!", a request that the thief ignored as he ran in the direction of the stunned villagers.

"You're not going to kill me!" he shouted as he continued to run for his life and towards freedom.

[Lokir's P.O.V.]

In his mind Lokir had believed that his plan was a success. After all he was too far ahead of the guards for them to catch up to him, and once he entered the crowed of villagers he just had to act like a mad man so that they would panic and scatter in every direction, thus putting him closer to freedom as the guards would become confused in the ensuing pandemonium. How he would get past the gates or free himself from his binds where questions for later, what mattered was getting into the crowd and raise as much chaos to get these idiots to scatter. It was genius. It was fool proof. It was...

Why was he lying on the ground? Why did he feel dull pains in his chest and back? Why were the villagers looking down at him with...fear? Astonishment? And...and...why did he feel so...so..tiered? He didn't know, but maybe if he closed his eyes...just...just for a w-while, then...then maybe he'd...feel...better...soon. So he closed his eyes and...and let blissful dreams take...him...

[Ragna's P.O.V]

Ragna had stood where he remained, stone faced and unmoved by what he had just witnessed. First it had been that Lokir had been so desperate to free himself that he spat in the faces of his holders before bull rushing his way past the captain to try and reach the group of villagers. He did not know what the thief's plan had been-or if he even had a plan to begin with-but whatever he was focused on he was so dead set on completing that he had not heard or simply blocked out that the captain had issued two archers to her right to ready their arrows. Once she brought her hand down to signal that they fire, well he believed that the poor bastered did not have enough time to have felt the two arrows that had pierced his back, and he probably hadn't even registered the pain of being shot with arrows until it was too late.

He should have felt remorseful that they had killed him, as most any normal person would with such a display of violence, but Ragna had both killed and seen enough people killed that he was numbed to what he had witnessed. That and he believed that the man had died a needless death because he was too stupid to keep his cool in the face of danger.

"Poor dumb bastered." Ragna mumbled.

While the soldiers went about to collect Lokir's body and to calm down to civilians the captain turned back to the Stormcloaks who had not been catalogued yet.

"Anyone else feel like running? Well?" The only response she gained was silence and defiant stares. "That's what I thought. Carry on with the lists." Turning to Hadvar she gave him a crisp nod before doing the same to her second assistant, signaling for them to continue in their duty.

One by one the rebels were called forward, their names checked off and where they came from were also accounted for, with Ragna himself paying close attention to that part of the listing to gain more information on the towns of this strange new world. So far the names he heard were Whiterun, Windhelm, Dawnstar, and Riften, all of them names that he had never heard from history. Soon Ragna was the only one to remain from the group and he would have appeared lonely if not for the four men with nice and pointy swords aimed at him. Ah, new friendships were so wonderful.

As he stood waiting he noticed that both the Imperials in charge of cataloging the rebels began to flip through the parchments in their clipboards, looks of confusion on their faces as something seemed to be amiss in their notes. After flipping through them a second time one of the men, the one named Hadvar, looked up from his notes and pointed at him.

"You there, in the red coat. Step forward." he ordered, though his tone was less athorative and more curious.

Deciding to humor the man Ragna began to walk forward but noticed that every step he took was also mirrored by the four soldiers surrounding him, making him seem like some sort of roughed up royal and the soldiers like his entourage of bodyguards, bodyguards who had decided to turn on their boss. It was quite funny as Ragna thought about it. After releasing a small chuckle Ragna composed himself as he came to a stop in front of Hadvar, the brown haired man flipping through his list once more before setting his sights on Ragna.

"I see that you were among the rebels, but I don't have any name to go with your face. Tell me stranger, who are you?"

At that moment Ragna began to consider what he should tell the man since not only was he waiting to hear Ragna's name, but so were the captain, the soldiers surrounding him, and more than a few villagers who were leaning as far as they could go to be able to hear his name. 'I could give them a fake name, that way when I bust out it will be harder for them to track me.' he thought to himself before he came to a realization 'But even if I gave them a fake allies they would probably still find me because of how I look, I mean how many other people could they say has white hair and wears a red coat. No, if I'm doin' this I may as well tell them who I really am.' He then had a smug smirk flash before his face. 'Besides, I rather like the name I built up over the years. I can't just toss that away.' Taking a small breath and straightening his back he then faced Hadvar and decided to come clean with his identity.

"The names Ragna, Ragna the Bloodedge. We done now?" he had nonchalantly told the soldier, making it appear as if the situation he found himself in was less life threatening and more of an annoyance to him. Which it was, in a way.

As the Imperial wrote his name Ragna noticed that he had a look of intrigue as he continued to scribble at the way bottom of his list. He also noticed the some of the villagers where exchanging what looked like coin purses here and there, possibly from men who had placed bets on that his name would be as intimidating as he appeared due to his ripped clothes and that he was heavily restrained.

"Hmm. Ragna, was it? Yes, sounds about the right name that a Nord should have, and that title, Bloodedge is something that only one of us would come up with. That or an Orc..." Hadvar mumbled to himself, taking a second to looked back up at Ragna with a raised brow. Seeing that the Reaper had neither green skin or large tusks he went back to his list. "Yeah definitely not an orc. What village do you hail from?"

Ragna grunted before he continued. "Honestly, none. You could say that I'm not from around here, just got caught up in all this bullshit."

Hadvar hummed in an inquisitive tone as he processed what Ragna stated and wrote down that he had no village to call home on the list. After a few seconds he looked up from his clipboard to address Ragna again. "Well you picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim kinsman, and by the looks of it you landed on the wrong side of the war." As he finished talking he turned to the captain with a questioning look. "Captain what should we do with him? He's not on the list."

The captain's razor sharp gaze did not leave Ragna even as she answered Hadvar's question. "Forget the list. He goes to the block too."

"By you orders cap-"

"Now wait just one fucking minute!" Ragna swore as he took a step forward, an action that caused the guards near him to close their circle around him to halt his advancement. Even as he was encircled by blades Ragna continued to fume about the captain's dismissal of him. "Listen I know that you guys are still pissed that I wrecked a few of your buddies, but they were the ones who came looking for a fight. I was just minding my own fucking business and then the next thing I know some of you schmucks start to threaten me, so of course I was going to defend myself." he growled to the captain, who in turn began to turn the brightest shade of scarlet that Ragna had ever seen for someone with such a dark skin tone.

"Defend yourself? You sent more than thirty of our men out of commission, many of them won't be able to walk, let alone fight, for the rest of their lives!" she shouted as she drew close to Ragan until they were almost nose to nose. "Not only did you assault Imperial soldiers but your actions almost resulted in allowing the rebels to escape, and the death of one of our troops! You are just as guilty of treason as they are!" she continued to roar, but before Ragna could argue with her some more she quickly whirled to the left and began to walk to where they had been sending all the rebels once they were accounted for. "Bring him to the block. Now!" she ordered.

The soldiers surrounding Ragna where quick to comply, probing him in the back and the sides with their swords to heard him to the execution site. Had Ragna been at his peak of strength he would have simply plowed his way through these soldiers and escaped by now, but the dammed cuffs they put on him forbade any feats of strength to help him in his endover, so with a sigh he began to let them take him to his destination.

He noticed that as they were walking that Hadvar had begun to walk near their group, looking at Ragna with sympathetic eyes. "I'm sorry, but at least you'll die here in your homeland. And we'll be sure to bury you with the dignity you deserve." he told him as they continued to walk.

"Gee, thanks. I feel so grateful." Ragna sarcastically responded. Whether the man had taken his tone as insulting or not Ragna would not know, because as he finished his snarky remark their small group was already at their destination, standing among the group of rebels (and noticing that he was once again standing near his wagon buddy Ralof) and just a few paces ahead was a small stone block with a basket in front of it. Why said basket was placed there was answered by the large hooded man who stood behind it and held a heavy double handed battle axe in his muscular hands, the gleaming blade at rest but making one statement clear to all those present.

The headsman was here, and his duty would begin soon.

As they all stood waiting for the process to begin the captain who had been present while they were listed off walked forward to stand beside the executioner and joining her side was a woman who wore a bright yellow hooded robe. Ragna guessed that the new woman was some form of priestess from this world if her ceremonial like garbs and the heavy and ornate book she held indicated anything. And lo' and behold the cherry on top of this merry execution came in the form of the presence of General Tullius himself, unmounted from his horse but still intimidating in stature, standing just in front of the gathering. Though he was stoned faced, with no expression on his face save for the professional and stern gaze of a soldier, Ragna could almost feel the man's sardonic sense of accomplishment as he looked to all those gathered and bound, especially when his sight landed on Ulfric. It was almost impossible not to notice the shadow of a smile as he stared the gagged man down, though it was quickly dismissed as the female captain turned to salute him.

"General Tullius, sir! All but the executed thief are present and are ready to proceed sir!" she sounded off, making sure to bury her nose as deep as it could go in the general's ass by standing as straight as a board and eyes staring forward, refusing to move a single muscle or be distracted by anything until told so by her superior.

"Good, let's get this over and done with." Tullius replied in a bored drawl as he waved a hand towards the captain, signaling her to take a more relaxed stance. Once the captain's attempt at brown nosing was over Tullius then signaled two soldiers to his right to go into the group of Stormcloaks to drag one of them forward, and of course their target just had to be Ulfric. As the soldiers came to apprehend him, Ulfric merely shrugged off their attempt to manhandle him, preferring to walk forward by his own accord though the guards still shadowed his every step until he stood four paces away from Tullius. Once he was near enough, and after the villagers swarmed to get a better view of what was about to occur, did the General take in a short intake of breath to address his restrained prisoner.

"Ulfric Stormcloak." he said as he looked Ulfric up and down with disdain, making sure that his voice was loud enough so that everyone present could hear him, before his sight settled on Ulfric's face once more to continue. "You know some people respect the weight that your name carries, and even some here in Helgen once called you a hero for your deeds in the Great War." His features then darkened, his once stoic face was replaced with a look of utter disgust and barely contained anger. "But you know what, I don't think that you are worthy of such a title. After all a hero would never use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

Ragna noticed that Ulfric took Tullius' words as an insult, his posture stiffened and he began to send muffled curses at the General. Tullius chose to ignore the man's defiance as he continued to speak with righteous fury now lacing every word. " You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos and forced brother to fight brother. So many have died by your actions, and many more by your hands no less. You have allowed so much blood to be shed for your own ambitions, and the consequence of your actions has finally arrived. The Empire has heard the cry of Skyrim and her people, and now we will strike you and those who follow you down like the rabid beasts you are to restore peace to this land!"

Once his speech was finished a rousing rabble of cheers could be heard coming from villagers to show their approval to Tullius' words, but their celebrating was cut short as something most unexpected interrupted their support of the Imperial soldier. A loud far-off noise could be heard, a noise that sounded like the unholy spawn of a lion, bear, and thunder that vibrated the very air around them. Though it had sounded to be far away it still almost defended some of the villagers, and left both soldier and rebel stunned. The only person who was only slightly affected by the sudden noise was Ragna, who while stunned had chosen to ask the million dollar question that everyone present was thinking.

"What the flying fuck was that?" Ragna inquired, more out of curiosity than fear. His question, vulgar as it was, was shared by many, one such person being the soldier named Hadvar who turned to General Tullius.

"General Tullius sir, what was that?" he asked, his voice slightly shaking from nervousness.

Tullius, though momentarily surprised by the noise, quickly composed himself to answer Hadvar's question and continue with the proceedings. "It was nothing." he dismissed as he turned to the captain who was near the chopping block. "Now carry on with the executions."

The captain sprung to attention as she was addressed by her superior. "Yes General Tullius" she eagerly said before she turned to the priestess. "Proceed to give them their last rites."

The priestess gave a respectful bow before she walked forward, bringing the heavy book of hers out with one hand, opened it and then began to flick through the pages. Once she had found what page she had been searching for she cleared her throat before she stood with her back straight and her head slightly tilted so it faced the heavens.

"Great, just what I need; someone preaching a sermon." Ragna groaned under his breath. Though he had been raised in a church along with his siblings Ragna never considered himself a religious man, hell he sometimes would slack off whenever the Matron of his home would announce that it was time to pray. He respected the practice but would otherwise avoid it, one part because he believed that it was useless to him at this point and the other part being that he would always be bored out of his mind. Unfortunately for him there was no way to weasel his way out this time so he would have to endure it. 'Dammit.'

"Let us pray for those who shall depart from Nirn, and join the Divines in the next world." The priestess began, her voice filled with religious zeal as she began to read from her holy tome. _"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved-."_

Ragna chose to tune out the woman's preaching, and ironically sent his own prayer to whatever higher being there be to do something that would just come and end the boring proceedings. His prayers were answered as it appeared that someone else among them shared his views in believing that the woman's preaching was unneeded.

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's just get this over with!" one of the Stormcloaks yelled as he stepped forward, silencing an now gob smacked priestess. Ragna noticed that the man walking to the chopping block was the first man that had been called during the lists.

'What was his name? Jorcmmeck?' Ragna thought before his attention was drawn back to the priestess. She may have been wearing a hood but Ragna could tell that underneath she was absolutely fuming at the man's disrespect for her services but chose to hold her tongue as to present a more humble image of her church.

"As you wish..." she said in a strained voice before she snapped her book closed and stomped her way behind the captain to allow what was to come next.

Coming near the prisoner the captain grabbed his bound hands and then shoved him down onto his knees, putting his body closer to the block. As the headsman heaved his massive axe upward the Stormcloak, perhaps because he had second thoughts on the situation he placed himself in, refused to place his head forward into the position for the hooded man to do his job. Acting to rectify the problem the Imperial captain placed her armored boot on the kneeling man's back and applied just enough pressure to force the man to lean forward until his body was parallel with the ground and his neck hovering over the block. Before the headsman's blade could come down the Stormcloak, as a finale show of defiance, turned his head just enough until he could see the headsman, the captain, and General Tullius.

"My ancestors are smiling down upon me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" he taunted his executioners, a proud and defiant smile plastered on his face as a finale 'screw you' to the death that loomed above him. A smile that stayed on his lips as the headsman brought his blade down. Tempered and sharpened steel cleaved through flesh and bone, easily separating the man's head from his neck in one strike so it landed in the basket below, a fountain of blood spewing forth from the resulting stump of the man's corpse.

"You Imperial bastards!" one of the female Stormcloaks yelled, voice broken at having lost one of their brother in arms.

Ragna saw from the corner of his eye that Ralof hung his head low in grief for his kinsman. "Poor Jorcmmeck. As fearless in death as he was in life." he woefully said. Their feelings of sorrow were reflected by the other Stormcloaks, who hung their heads low or sent silent prayers to their fallen brother. The same could not be said for the villagers who had a different reaction that elicited from the man's death.

"Down with the bloody false king!"

"Death to the Stormcloaks!"

"Justice!"

Each villager, from the youngest maiden to the grizzled men entering their golden years, shouted their approval at the man's death, the scent of freshly fallen blood seeming to send them into an uproar, baying for the next death of those who they saw as traitors and murderers. To accommodate they hunger for justice the captain moved the man's corpse to the side and began to scan the rebels to choose the next victim to step forward and get the most thorough haircut of their lives. Ragna thought that she would drag Ulfric next, seeing as he was the supposed king of the rebels and a man of importance, but as her eyes began to draw near his position he remembered that he may have sorta, kinda, maaaaaaaybe insulted the person in charge of choosing who dies next, and she seemed like the type who held onto her grudges. His assumption was proven right when the captain caught sight of him and remembered that it was he who insulted her honor, and the fact that she began to turn crimson once more solidified the fact.

As she began to raise her hand to point towards him Ragna could only think of one thing...

'I done goofed. I done goofed real bad."

"Next, the Nord in the rags!" she ordered, and pun jabbed at his name aside she made it very clear that her order was not to be questioned if her snarling mouth and the steel edge to her voice had not made it pretty clear. But before his guards could begin to move him forward to be executed the gathering of people was once more stunned by the horrible roar like sound resonating through the air once more. Only this time it sounded way to close for comfort.

"There it is again. Captain, did you hear that?" Hadvar asked once again, the edge nervousness and fear once more returning into his voice. The captain though was not having any of their fears get in the way of settling her petty vendetta on Ragna.

"I said next prisoner. Do not make me order you twice."

"By your orders captain." Hadvar replied, turning to Ragna as his guards began to herd him forward once more. "To the block prisoner, nice and slow."

As they walked forward Ragna began to formulate one finale plan for his escape. 'Alright so they'll try to put me in the same position as the last guy, so if I make some slight resistance the bitch will plant her foot in my back to line me up with the axe, and when she dose I'll wait till the axe is halfway down to roll sideways while throwing her forward. She'll take a blade to her knee, I'll be able to springboard back to my feet, get a quick hit in and then run like there's no tomorrow. Just have to keep an eye out for archers or I'll wide up like the thief did.' Plan solidified, Ragna began to put on a show for the villagers and soldiers, stopping just a few feet from the block and refusing to budge. To get him in place one of the soldiers slugged him in his stomach, causing him to double over before the captain planted her foot in his back and pressured him forward.

'Oof. Oh, you'll get yours, just you wait.' Ragna schemed as he was put in place. Looking up from his position he saw how the headsman readied his bloodied axe, raising it high above his head and awaiting to cleave through flesh and bone once more. "Hey buddy, you better hope that you get it right on the first try, because if you screw up I won't let any of you get a second hit in." he threatened the man, trying to psyche him out to further tip the odds in his favor in his coming escape.

The headsman did stall for but a fraction of a second, having been stunned by the killing intent that he had felt radiate from Ragna, as if sensing that the man before him would stay true to his threat in if he gave him even the slightest chance to escape he would end up meeting the Divines personally. As shaken as he was the headsman continued on to raise his axe high so it would gain the momentum it would need to complete its job, but if one looked closely they would see the tiny tremors of fear that continued to run through him. Once his axe reached the desired height the man stood as still as a statue, waiting till he was ordered to bring his blade down but hoped that it would be soon.

From what he was able to see from his position Ragna saw that the captain raised her hand upwards, and from there everything seemed to go in slow motion for him. Her hand began to descend downward at a painfully slow pace, as if it were trying to wade its way through syrup, while at the same time the executioner's axe began its own slow downfall. Inch by painful inch both came down, and when they were at the halfway mark of their paths did Ragna begin to spring his plan. 'Ok, now-'

*BOOOOOOOM*

It came without warning, a large sonic boom that caused those who were unprepared to nearly trip over themselves, and some even outright fell to their knees from the force of the noise. The headsman had the worst of it as the sound caused him to completely fall off his balance and miss Ragna's head by a foot in front of where it was, shaving off only a few strands of his white mane as his axe crashed into the ground.

"What in Oblivion was that!" Ragna heard Tullius yell from beyond his field of vision. He also heard multiple footsteps running around, and the voices of soldiers that where frantically trying to pin-point the source of the disturbance all while the heavens above began to darken and howl, black clouds swirling and smothering whatever rays of sunlight tried to escaped past their darkening veil. Their inquiry of where the sound originated from was answered as one of the soldiers they had stationed as a sentry in the right tower, which was right in front of Ragna, popped his head over the side of the tower and shouted down below.

"Captain it's in the clouds!" the man shouted so he could be heard down below, gaining the attention of the Captain and some of the soldiers.

"What's in the clouds soldier?" she barked up, but was met with a gibbering soldier.

"I don't know captain it's...i-it's-" the soldier paused as the same unholy roar from before was heard once more, only this time it sounded right above them. Turning around, and Ragna following the man's line of sight, they both came upon a large black something that was floating in the heavens, which then took a sharp turn and began to descend at an alarmingly rapid speed, and it just so happened that its path was coming right at the tower. "IT'S COMMING RIGHT AT US!" the man screamed as the large black shape came barreling right towards them. The unidentified object arrived at such a frightening speed that the soldier was unable to reach safety when it crashed into the stone structure, sending dust and rubble flying every which way. Having closed his eye to keep the dust out Ragna attempted to shake off whatever debris had landed on him as best he could before he looked up to see what had crashed into the tower. What he saw left him completely and utterly slack-jawed.

In his life Ragna had met and fought many strange things and people. Deadly cyborg girl that had an obsessive need to be with him: check. Squishy black tar monster: check. Weird plant monster men: check. Psychotic ice wielding brother: check. Psychotic brother's even more psychotic girlfriend: double check. Personification of death with the form of his sister: triple check. Insane fallen god who had made his life a living hell: triple check and stabbed for good measure. But all of this, every encounter he had had so far, paled in comparison to what loomed above him at the moment, for the creature was something that was only heard from in myths and legends. A beast that was renowned for its ferociousness and strength. This creature, this monster, was something far from what he had ever faced before.

Great black wings, larger than any tower, were spread to their fullest and stopped any light that passed through the darkened sky from reaching the earth. Its body was covered with sharp and jagged scales of the darkest of black obsidian that jutted out from its immense frame, to the point that the beast appeared to be made from pure shadows rather than flesh and blood. Its tail ended in a wicked and jagged spade tip, appearing more than strong enough to cleave a fully armored man in two with a single swing. Atop its head two spiraling horns sprouted from the sides of its skull, large and sharp enough to skewer four men, but what really caught Ragna's attention were the beast's eyes. Twin pools that glowed a hellish red, as if magma was what filled its eye sockets, and that were filled with cruel cunning and sentience, which was made more apparent as it reveled in the chaos and fear its mere presence caused.

'No freaking way, is that a...'

"D-D-D-DRAGON!" A soldier screamed, utter horror and astonishment filled his voice. From there all Ragna heard was the screams of the villagers and their thundering footsteps as they began to scatter like spooked cattle, but before any of them could run to safety or before any soldier could ready a counter assault the beast began to take a deep breath and aimed its sight downward, right at Ragna's path.

Wide-eyed he only had a few seconds until the beast struck him. "Oh shi-"

 **" Fus Ro Dah!"*** the beast roared, which resulted in another sonic boom that broke the sound barrier to be heard, and anything in the path of its roar was sent flying, which sadly included Ragna.

"Gah!" he shouted as he-and those around him-where slammed with the powerful force that could only be compared to a punch from the giant Take-Mikazuchi, sending him tumbling through the air like a ragdoll. "Fuck, shit, fuck, shit, shit, fuck!" Ragna cursed as he flew and then tumbled along the ground, only ceasing his string of vulgarities once he came to a stop. As he attempted to rise from the ground-which proved to be quite the herculean task because of his battered body and his arms restrained behind him-Ragna heard the distorted voice of General Tullius as the man attempted to gain order among the chaos.

"Don't just stand there, kill that thing! Archers ready your bows, captain go and rally the battlemages to ready their spells! Guards! Don't just stand there, get the townspeople to safety! NOW!" the man roared, issuing rapid orders to all his troops to protect as many innocents as he could while attempting a counter offence for their winged foe.

'Got to move now or I'm a dead man.' Ragna thought as he continued to try and raise himself, but stumbled as he was still disoriented by his flight through the air. He only stopped once he felt a hand land on his shoulder that began to forcefully straighten him. Believing that it was an Imperial soldier that had taken a hold of him Ragna was ready to retaliate with a harsh kick, until he focused on the individual and found that it was not a soldier, but the blonde Stormcloak he had traveled with.

"Come on friend, move! The gods won't give us another chance!" the man shouted, before he began ushering him to the second watchtower that was to the left of the chopping block. As they ran Ragna-despite the chaos around them and the literal balls of fire now raining from the darkened sky-turned back to see what had happened to the headsman and the soldiers who were near him during the attack, and what he saw was haunting.

The headsman's body looked like it had been crushed like a soda can, blood and bones jutted out of his crooked body from orfaries that were not meant to exist on the human body. The soldiers did not fare as well either, their bodies twisted at unnatural angles as they were sprawled along the cobble stone street, their blood pooling around them to soak the ground crimson. How Ragna had survived such an assault he did not know, but he counted himself extremely lucky that he had. Whatever thoughts he had about the condition that the men's bodies where left in were forgotten as his new found ally pushed him through the threshold of the tower's door before slamming it's heavy oaken door shut and bringing down a hefty steel bolt to lock it, keeping the horrors of what was happening outside momentarily at bay.

Now able to gather himself Ragna looked around to see who else had made it to safety, which sadly seemed that of the twenty men and women only he, Ralof, Ulfric, and five others survived. Though it seemed that two of the mentioned five did not leave unharmed as one was curled up in a fetal position trying to nurse a severe stomach wound, her companion doing his best to treat her with a ripped piece from his blue cloth, and the other brown haired rebel leaned against the wall holding a limp left arm that had most likely been struck by debris. The fourth man waited near the staircase of the tower, looking around to see who else had survived, and the fifth was sitting on the floor, his face in a state of shock and his eyes seemed to have a far off look to them.

"Are they alright?" Ralof asked in concern for his injured allies.

"They're hurt pretty bad, but Lorbal can still walk if I help him. But Yosena, I...I don't know." the Stormcloak answered as he continued to treat his ally. "If we had been out there any longer with that dragon or the Imperial's then we'd all be dead."

As they continued to assist the condition of their friends Ragna noticed that Ulfric, who stood by the heavy door, began to bring his bound hands to the underside of his metal chest plate and began to grind the rope alongside the bottom until it began to cut his bindings, snagging what strands it could before prying them apart. Arms now free the man then went to work in taking off his mouth gagged; flexing his jaw once it was free from the cloth prison it was in for so long. Seeing that their leader was now free from his bindings Ralof came forward, fear and worry clear in his face.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true, and that that was a dragon, a bringer of the end times?"

As he rubbed his sore wrists Ulric answered Ralof's question, grim understanding painted in his expression. "Legends don't burn down villages."

 **" Zu'u lost daal!"*** they heard thunder outside, the very power behind the beast's roar shaking the foundations of the heavy stone tower, shifting small downfalls of dust to rain on them.

"Not to be the bearer of bad news, but if we don't move-like right the fuck now!- then we can kiss our asses goodbye." Ragna alerted the gathered men during their slight silence after hearing the monstrous voice of the dragon outside, trying to probe the stunned warriors into action before the tower came crashing down upon them. Ulfric was the first to respond to Ragna's insight on the possible looming danger of staying in their current location.

"The boy's right, we need to go. Now!"

'Did he just call me boy?' Ragna thought before Ralof began to drag him towards the spiraling stairs of the tower.

"Up through the tower, let's go friend."

"You're bright plan to escape a crumbling tower is to go further up? Genius." Ragna sarcastically said. Ralof made no hint that he was insulted as he continued to lead them both further up the stairs. It was after a few seconds that he chose to respond to Ragna's comment.

"While we were nearing the chopping block I had noticed that just to the left of this tower there was an inn, and if we can reach the top we can climb down the side until we're low enough to jump to the inn's roof." He turned and flashed the Reaper a toothy smile as he continued to ascend. "I may be quick to act friend, but I never do something unless I have a backup plan."

"Huh, that's not a bad plan." Ragna replied as he evaluated the Stormcloaks quick formed plan.

They both continued to climb up the winding path till they reached the second landing of the tower, only for their path to be blocked by heavy stones that had collapsed from the upper portions of the structure, forming a wall that blocked their path to freedom.

"Dame, looks like we're shit out of luck. Do you have a backup plan cause I don't think we can get through this in time." Ragna told his companion as the came to a halt. A solution for this delay to their survival came in the form of the fourth rebel survivor who had waited near the stairs to run past them, getting to work on moving the heavy stones as best he could.

"We can still make it. Ugh! Look, we just need to move a few of these-Mph!-rocks to clear the way!" the man grunted out as he heaved stone after heavy stone from his path, flinging them to the side as if they were pebbles. Maybe it was because he was a particularly gifted man in the area of strength, or maybe it was because of desperation and the will to survive, but the blue clothed man was not letting something as trivial as a collapsed roof stand in his way, continuing to advance through the pile at a slow but steady pace. Ragna would have offered his assistance if he could, but his hands where disposed of at the moment due to the slave bands, so to take his place Ralof began to step forward to assist his kinsman, but fate-as cruel a bitch as it often chose to be-decided to rear its ugly head to stop their progress.

Well, it was less fate's ugly head and more of the fearsome black dragon that terrorized them deciding to crash through the wall next to them, nearly sending both Ragna and Ralof tumbling back down the stairs, and shooting pieces of the wall at their hardworking ally (whose legs were crushed beneath a sizable piece of said exploded wall) that stopped them. Close enough, no?

As Ragna righted himself he saw that the crushed Stormcloak attempted to crawl his way out from beneath his pinned position, but his actions proved in vain as it only served to draw the dragon's interest. Interest that would prove fatal for the man, as once more the beast drew in a large puff of air before unleashing a torrent of intense flame on the poor soul.

 **" Toor Shul!"***

It only took a matter of seconds for the man's body to become nothing more than ash, blown away by the wind that came from the hole that the dragon had created. Pleased with its dispatching of one more mortal the dragon withdrew its large maw from the tower before the sound of its mighty wings flapping once more signaled that it had removed itself from the side of the building, off to hunt more of its prey.

Both Ragna and Ralof, once they were certain that the beast had left, rushed to where the man had been slain, Ralof kneeling down to survey the damage while Ragna remained standing. All that remained that even indicated that the Stormcloak had existed was a scorched mark in the stones that outlined the man's finale pose as he was burned away.

"Poor bastered never knew what hit him." the Reaper spoke as he continued to look at what remained of the determined warrior. "Well it was probably better that way, his nerves would have been burned away before he could have felt any pain. A lot better than being slow roasted at least."

Ralof continued to silently mourn the loss of one more of his friends before he felt a slight breeze coming from behind him, reminding himself that the dragon had blown a hole through the wall to reach them. Getting up from his kneeling position and walking past the red coated man Ralof looked out from the opening, gaining a grand view of the village, or rather what was left of it as it continued to burn and crumble under the assault of the mythical terror that flew through the skies. He continued to view the surroundings for a few more seconds before something caught his interest, which happened to be an adjacent building just in front of the gaping hole.

"Look friend, there's the inn I told you about, just right on the other side." He told Ragna as he pointed to a burning two story building a few feet below the hole, its roof slightly collapsed on the side that faced in their direction. "Just jump to the roof and keep going. Go friend!" he ordered as he began to shepherd Ragna to the opening.

"What about you? And all the others downstairs?" Ragna asked as he tried to judge the distance he would need to clear to make it across to reach the burning dwelling.

The blonde simply turned and began to climb back down the stairs, leaping two steps at a time to speed up his descend. "Don't worry about us, we'll follow you when we can but we have to help our injured. Go, we'll catch up to you soon!" As the blonde disappeared down the stairs Ragna glanced back out to the inn, determining what his next action should be. Hearing the dragon let one more roar that shook the foundation of the tower again helped him make his decision all the more easier.

"Well..." he said as he began to back away from the hole, giving himself enough room to get a running start for his leap of faith "here goes nothing." Using all the force he could muster Ragna ran forward like a bat out of hell, leaping past the hole when he neared it and began to sail through the air with the inn beginning to close in at an accelerating rate. As he passed a sizable hole through the straw roof and his feet were about to make contact with the hardwood floor of the second story of the inn Ragna began to bend his knees and tuck his body into itself to absorbed as much of the impact as he could before tilting his body slightly side-ways, turning his landing into a roll that left him on his left side. "Oof. That could have gone better." Ragna groaned as he began to pick himself up from the floor. Once he was standing upright he began to scan the burning and smoke filled structure for any way to reach the first floor of the inn and escape being burned alive or chocked with smoke. "Okay now *cough* where are the stairs of *cough* this plac-Whoa!" he did not have to look far for an exit because a large section of the second story floor he had been standing on had come crashing down as the flames that engulfed the inn weakened one of the support beams that had been holding the weight of the floor, causing the Reaper to plummet down and slam back first into the first floor. "Ow. I am getting really sick of landing on my back all the time...still," he said as he rolled over and climbed once again to his feet "I guess I can call this a blessing in disguise, got to the first floor anyways."

Searching for a way to leave the blazing inn Ragna spotted the entrance to the abode, the door knocked off its hinges and showing freedom just beyond its threshold. Waiting no time in the flames of the inn Ragna bolted forward and was again standing in the cobble stone street of the village. As he began to fill his deprived lungs with (somewhat) fresh air he heard voices coming just ahead of him.

"Haming, you need to get over here now!" As he followed the frantic voice Ragna caught sight of Hadvar-the Imperial who had called him forward during the listing-and an elderly man clad in iron and leather armor taking shelter behind a house just in front of him, the old man looking to the skies with fear while Hadvar had his hand outstretched in front of him as he shouted ahead. Following the Imperial soldier's hand Ragna came to see that his distress was because in the middle of the road, and beyond the safety of the duo's makeshift defense, was the boy and father who Ragna had heard arguing as he was coming to the execution site, only now the boy was desperately trying to lift his fallen father's body from the street and attempted to drag him to safety. What was worse was that looming in the sky was the black dragon that had brought down destruction on the village, and it was heading right for the boys position, raining flames down on any archers foolish enough to try and interrupt his path with their arrows.

Before Ragna could rush to the child's aid Hadvar was already beating him to it, dashing ahead of him and reaching the boy in mere seconds, no doubt thanks in part to the astronomical amount of adrenalin that must have been surging through his veins, and came to kneel next to the giant man as he laid sprawled on his back on the ground. Coming closer till he was next to the iron wearing old man Ragna was able to see that the father had been unable to move because his legs had been seared to the bone by fire, leaving his body badly burned and with nothing below his knees except for blackened stumps. While Hadvar tried to converse with the man the father seemed to be ignoring him and instead focused on the dark behemoth that was drawing closer by the second, and only as it was about to land close to their position did he finally do something. It had all taken place in the span of mere seconds, but Ragna was able to see everything.

He saw how the father began to twist his body until he was no longer on his back but now on his stomach, facing his son. He saw as the man, damaged and burned as he was, grabbed his son by his shirt before tossing his small body at Hadvar, who caught him out of the air, his face both astonished and downfallen. He saw that even as injured as he was the muscular man forced his mouth to work, and though no words could be heard leaving his mouth he had still conveyed the desperate order he had wished for the soldier to complete. He saw that the only word that he had mouthed to Hadvar would be his last words...'Go'.

Doing as he was told Hadvar hosted the child in his arms and began to sprint back to the safety of the abandoned home's walls, ignoring the boy's pleas to return and help his father. He never once looked back, not even when the dragon had finally touched the ground and shook the very earth with its weight, then he did his best to shield the young boy from the bright and burning flames that left the beast's maw a second later, diving to the right and behind the sanctuary of the dwellings wall as the great beast continued its flaming assault. It lasted a few seconds but the heat of the flames were so intense that the stones that they all were hiding behind began to fuse together. As Ragna began to wonder if their cover would hold any longer something miraculous happened; the onslaught of flames just, stopped. The heat that lingered behind still stung his skin, but even with the threat of severe burns Ragna decided to soldier on and peak past their cover to see what had happened, and what he saw was truly...eye opening.

The beast towered over what remained of the man, a triumphed sneer permently placed on its fanged maw as it examined its handy work, crimson eyes glowing with sadistic glee as it examined how thoroughly desecrated it had left the man's remains so that they no longer resembled a human form but seemed more like dwindling charcoal. Its fanged smile only seemed to grow wider as it neared the remains, and did something that proved that it was no mere simple minded beast but a vicious and sentient killer.

It spoke to the charred corpse.

 **" Hin sil fen nahkip bahloki."*** it growled at the corpse, then opened its mouth wide, giving Ragna a grand view of its numerous arm length and dagger sharp fangs. At first Ragna believed that the beast was preparing an assault on their position and was about to dive to cover...but nothing came. No scorching flames, no bone shattering force, not even a ground shaking roar. Nothing came out of its mouth, but rather something else began to be drawn into it, and it was coming from the remains of the child's father. Ethereal strands of blue, violet and red streamed from the slain man and into the waiting maw of the dragon, filling it to the brim, and when the last strand of ghostly aura flew past its fangs the dragon closed its mouth and swallowed.

Any other man who would have witnessed the display would have been dumfounded by what the dragon had done and what significance it held, but Ragna knew all too well what had just transpired. He knew because he himself had done a similar action to those who faced him in combat to heal his wounds and bring his foes closer to their downfall. The dragon had done something that Ragna believed only his Azure Grimoire could achieve...devour the soul of a living being.

Savoring its immaterial meal the dragon was so distracted that it failed to notice a hail of fireballs heading towards it until they exploded just behind its left horn, though whoever had sent the flaming barrage would be disappointed when the string of fiery explosions served only to nudge its head to the side rather than sending it up in flames. Grunting more from annoyance rather than from pain the dark behemoth turned to where the barrage had come from, taking to the skies a second later to return the favor with gusto. Seeing as the winged terror left to peruse its vengeance Ragna turned away from the scene and leaned against the wall he hid behind.

"Phew. It finally left." Relived that the dragon had decided to leave Ragna turned to the side to see how the others had fared. The old man seemed to be okay, and the boy-though he had continued to cry at the fate that befell his father-was otherwise unharmed. Hadvar had also come out without a scratch-which was impressive considering he had escaped a horrid death via a giant wall of flame-and began to rise and dust himself to rid the soot and ash that clung to his armor, only stopping when he had caught sight of Ragna. He walked towards him but made no attempt to reach his sword, looking more impressed rather than hostile that Ragna was present by their side.

"I see your still alive prisoner. Well, if you wish to stay like that you will have to follow us." Hadvar said as he began to turn to the old man. "Gunnar take the boy and follow behind me as we make our way through to the keep."

"I'm sorry I thought you just said that I should follow you, which must have been wrong because last time I checked you people were about to execute me without so much as batting an eye. So tell me again, why the hell should I follow you?" Ragna had defiantly asked as the group of survivors were readying themselves to leave the safety of the wall.

"Because unless you want to stay here and wait for the dragon to return then you'll come with us. I can't promise you that it will be the safest decision that you will make but it has to beat any other option that you have at this moment, no?" Hadvar came face to face with the Reaper as he continued to divulge why he should tag along with their small band of survivors. "Besides, you're still bound by those cuffs and the only way to remove them is with the keys that are being kept safe in the keep we have to retreat to. So I'll ask you again prisoner, are you going to follow us or not?"

Seeing as he was...limited-if it could be underestimated as such-Ragna decided to reluctantly accept the man's invitation to retreat to a safer destination, if only to try and slip away later and find the keys for the dammed slave bands that restrained his arms. "Fine." he huffed and nudged his head to the side to signal that he would follow the Imperial, for now.

"Come on, let's go before the beast returns. Move!" Hadvar ordered as they all began to sprint forward, Hadvar at the lead followed by the old man carrying the now orphaned child and Ragna coming behind at the rear, their destination being a ditch that dipped behind a two story dwelling that ran along the wall that separated the village from the military compound. As they continued along their path, avoiding the occasional lingering fire or burning hot stone on the road, they ran past the charred remains of the boy's father. The old man who carried the boy did his best to ensure that the boy did not have a chance to see what befell his father by having his face turned to the side and hunching over him, but when the boy tried to take a glance anyway the old man only ran faster so that he would not see anything.

"No boy, don't look. There's nothing that we can do for him, he rests in Sovngarde now." he woefully told the child. The boy said nothing, only letting out sniffles and sobs as his only way to say goodbye to his father. Ragna could relate to the sorrow that the boy was feeling, having lost his family to flame and horror as well, but he could not offer him any words of comfort because they needed to continue onward to make it out of this hell alive.

Racing forward they passed the burning structure of the two story house and jumped into the ditch behind it, crouching along the wall as the neared another burning home to run through to reach the street that would lead to the keep, but before they could near the ruined dwelling Hadvar turned back to face them, abject horror on his face.

"Backs against the wall, NOW!"

Without waiting a moment all four of them slammed their backs against the cold stone as they were instructed, just as the onyx dragon landed above them, nearly crumbling the portion that it had placed its full weight upon. Ragna believed that it had returned to finish them off, but once more it seemed to have been distracted by a hail of arrows and exploding fire balls that feebly bounced off its neigh impenetrable hide, the feeble missiles only serving to alert the beast as to where to direct its fury.

 **" Vol Toor Shul!"* **it roared again, raining flaming death on those who had attempted to wound it. The distant cries of men burned alive could be heard screeching through the air before they were drowned out by the burst of wind that came when the dragon took to the skies once more, leaving Ragna and the shell shocked survivors to scramble away from the wall.

"We have to keep moving! Don't look back and don't stop for anything!" Hadvar ordered as he continued to shepherd them through the burning remains of the roofless home they had to cross to reach the street, and upon reaching the cobble stone path they had come across more soldiers trying their best to take the beast down, and attempting to organize the assault was General Tullius. Once the aged general spotted Hadvar and his group he began to signal to the right path of the street to tell them the direction of the keep, all while issuing orders to his troops. Along the way Ragna had noticed that they had passed entire squads of soldiers that had stood in the streets, some armed with bows and shooting arrows at the dragon whenever it would swoop in to shoot out flames on the village or pluck some of their members to toss from great heights back to the unforgiving ground, and other soldiers wearing leather hoods who seemed to be unarmed, but held orbs of flames or arcing streaks of electricity racing along their arms that showed that their weapons where not of the melee variety but of the mystical kind.

'So it really was magic that the soldier had used to hit me.' Ragna realized as he saw these hooded men send streaks of lightning and flaming balls at the dragon with no ars magnus or armagus in sight, showing that wherever he had ended up it was a world that continued to hold the secrets of the true arcane arts rather than the creations that had aroused from the combination of science and magic. His thoughts on the matter were interrupted when they neared the fort like structure that was in the center of the military compound-the destination that his group had been going through flames to reach-and crossed paths with another group of survivors that were avoiding the massacre to secure their own safety within the walls of the keep. This group of survivors consisted of two Stormcloak rebels-one who was slung across the shoulders of the other-and Ralof who now brandished an Imperial sword, likely stolen from a fallen soldier, and as they ran they noticed Hadvar and his group, and Hadvar had likewise noticed them.

"Ralof you dame traitor! Out of our way!" the Imperial growled at the blue clothed man and his party, his hand reaching for the hilt of his blade.

"Out of our way Hadvar, you won-friend is that you?" Ralof questioned, going from defensive to confused once he spotted Ragna among the group of survivors. Ralof's aggression seemed to double at seeing one of his new found allies being led by the Imperial soldier, taking a combative stance and raising his newly acquired blade at Hadvar. "Release him now Hadvar. You will not take one more of our allies this day."

Raising his own sword Hadvar began to circle around Ralof, keeping his unoccupied arm to the side to signal the old man and Ragna to follow his movements, but was left stunned when Ragna remained where he stood, his eyes going back and forth between the Stormcloak and the Imperial.

"Follow us prisoner if you want to live. You have a much better chance of surviving with us."

"Aye, he'll survive all right. Survive long enough for you to put him to the headsman's chopping block again you Imperial dog!" Ralof spat at Hadvar, turning to Ragna and outstretching one of his hands to the Reaper as a gesture to welcome him to his side. "Come on friend, we rebels have to stick together if we hope to have a chance to make it out of this alive. Come with us."

Ragna could do nothing else but stand between both parties and contemplate on which side he should side with for the time being, and more importantly if the side he chose would have dire consequences in the future. 'Dame, guess I'll have to decide on one of them, but who to choose. If I pick Ralof then even if I ditch him and his group later on the Imperial's might think that I'll be wrapped up in whatever war their involved in and target me too. On the other hand I don't have any assurance that if I go with the Hadvar that these assholse won't just throw me back to the execution block, and I still need that key that they're holding to get these dammed cuffs off. Who do I choose?" As Ragna continued to decide on which group to follow, and as the other men finished encircling each other and awaited for Ragna to decide, they had not noticed that they were moments away from disaster until an earth shaking roar was heard again.

"Shit! Everyone hit the floor now!" Ragna shouted as ran and crashed into the old man carrying the younger boy, sending them falling forward a few feet ahead of him so that they narrowly avoided certain death as seconds later a massive explosion erupted where they had stood moments before, sending everyone else flying as they were not prepared for the powerful expulsion of air that blew them away. "*cough**cough* I-Is everyone *cough* everyone alright?" he shouted as he stood back up to see what had transpired, only to see that his previous decision on who to follow was made for him as a massive wall of howling flames stood between the two shaken groups, and the side that he had been sealed behind was the one with the blue clothed rebels, though they were now down to three as the rebel who had carried the injured member threw him in an attempt to save his downed friend, but doomed himself to falling victim to the sea of fire that had rained from the sky.

"Ugh. C-come on." Ralof groaned as he rose to his feet and helped his fallen companion, taking one arm from the injured Stormcloak over his shoulder before shuffling close to Ragna and shook his right shoulder. "We can't stay here any longer friend, we have to go into the keep now!"

Seeing as the situation of the village was becoming worse by the second, with the dragon's aerial assaults becoming drastically more frequent and with no sign that the Imperial soldiers could defeat the flying menace and that there was still a barrage flaming balls falling from the darkened sky, Ragna could only say one sentence to summarize his final decision.

"Ah, screw it!" he shouted in frustration as he whirled to Ralof. "Where do we go?"

"This way friend, to the keep."

Racing forward the both of them climbed the stone steps that were to the right and finally came to be in front of the resilient stronghold's side door. Not wasting a moment Ragna bolted ahead and rammed his shoulder into the wooden door, smashing through and leaving the path open for Ralof to shuffle through with his ally before catching the corner of the door with his foot and kicking it closed, leaving the flame engulfed and razed village behind.

* * *

{Helgen Keep}

Tired but alive Ragna took a moment to catch his breath now that he was in relatively safe quarters, leaning against a wall and letting his eye close for a few seconds. Once he had calmed his aching muscles enough he opened his eye and began to take notice of where they had entered and saw that they were now in a large round room that must have served as the main entrance to the keep. There was not much to look at in the room, with only a medium sized red and orange rug laid in the middle to add color to the otherwise grey scenery around them, and a few added mounted trophies of brown bears and giant elks with a small desk and chair below them that attempted to bring more color to the surroundings. To the left of the room Ragna spied an iron barred gate blocking the way to advance further, and whatever mechanism that would draw it down must have been on the other side of it since there was no lever or button in their side to activate it, while the right side of the room had a iron barred door with three massive banners that held the diamond dragon symbol hung on either side and above it.

Finishing his sweep of the perimeter Ragna turned to speak to Ralof, only to see that the blonde haired man had already walked forward to the chair and desk against the wall to deposit his friend. The Reaper walked closer to see what the rebel was doing but stopped once he saw that Ralof was checking his friends pulse, only to dip his head in sorrow when he brought his hand back. "Rest easy Gunjar. We'll meet again in Sovngarde." Closing the clouded eyes of his fallen comrade Ralof turned around to face the Reaper, a tired and sad look present on his face. "It looks like it's just you and me who have made it here friend."

"Yeah about that, what happened to the others that were with you in the tower? You told me to jump while you went back for those four other people and that Ulfric guy, but I only saw you and these two running over here." Ragna asked his new comrade.

Sighing to himself Ralof leaned against the wooden table as he began to recount his misfortunes. "Let me tell you friend, as we tried to make our way back to the top of the tower the roof collapsed so we had to retreat and run out the door we had entered. From their all that I can remember is that we ran and dodged any flaming debris as best we could, and even found Gunjar lying in the streets, but then the dragon came back and separated us with its fire and...now I don't even know if my kinsmen made it." He rubbed his tired face before he continued to speak. "And that's what that thing is, isn't it; a dragon. An actual dragon, like the ones from children's stories and legends. The harbingers of the End Times and devourers of mortal men."

"Well it was huge, had scales and could shoot fire from its mouth, so unless it's a really big and really pissed off gecko then I think that a dragon is what it really was." Ragna commented when Ralof finished his recounting of events. "Though come to think of it only had two legs instead of four, so does that make it a different type of dragon or..." he mumbled to himself as he recalled certain details from the beast now that it was not trying to kill him with its flaming breath. His train of though was halted when both he and the Stormcloak heard the sound of a closing door and nearing voices coming from the left side of the room.

"Come on soldier! Keep moving!" a feminine and very irritably familiar voice shouted as two shadows appeared to bend around the corner just behind the iron barred gate, indicating just who was closing inn on their position.

"Crap, it's that captain bitch from the chopping block!" Ragna harshly whispered before being pulled towards the gate by Ralof, the blonde ushering him so that they were both pressed against the left side of the wall, hidden from view from the approaching soldiers.

"Okay friend, we wait until when they cross the threshold and once they're close enough we ambush them before they realize what's going on. After that we search them to see if they have anything that can help us escape from here."

"Sounds like a plan to me, I've been meaning to give that woman a piece of my mind." Leaning against the wall both Ragna and Ralof awaited to spring their trap on their unwary victims. They both went completely quiet when they heard the footsteps of the two soldiers just behind the gate.

"Well go on, get this gate open soldier." the captain ordered, followed soon by the sound of a pulled metal switch which caused the screeching and clicking of gears to fill the room. The iron gate began to slowly lower, and once it was fully out of sight did both of the Imperials walk through the threshold of the gate and began to pass the unnoticed duo who rested against the left wall. Poor bastards never saw them coming. Faster than the soldiers could react to both Ragna and Ralof sprang on them while their sides where to them, with Ralof who was the closest of the two aiming for the leather armored trooper and Ragna blitzed to intercept the dark skinned and steel clad captain.

Before the trooper could reach for his sword to wound his oncoming assailant Ralof had already wrapped one of his arms around the man, pinning him in a one handed chock hold while his sword wielding arm went around the soldier's shoulder, raising the gleaming sword high before plunging it down with full force right into the man's heart, killing him instantly. The captain, having been a step to the right of her companion, had seen the whole act happen in a matter of seconds but before she could strike down the man responsible for killing her soldier she was struck with a roundhouse kick to the face, courtesy of Ragna's red and black steel-toed boot. Had he been fighting at his peak efficiency the devastating kick he had delivered would have snapped her neck in two, but since he was restrained with the shackles that siphoned off his strength the kick had only been strong enough to snap her head backwards and knock her helmet off-and probably a tooth or two-before she crumpled to the ground. The small moans of pain that left her mouth told Ragna that even though she was in pain that she was still alive. She was most likely about to slip into a state of unconsciousness, but alive.

"Hey, that actually worked. Wait, what are those?" Curious Ragna kneeled next to the captain's unconscious form and spied a ring of keys that were strapped to the defeated captain's belt, with only two keys secured on her. One of the keys appeared to be a simple bronze key which was probably used for the doors of the keep they were in, but the other key, well, it looked to be meant for a much different use. Unlike the other bronze key, which was simple in both design and metal used to make it, the second key looked like it was made of mercury and was etched with small and intricate red glyphs and runes that encircled the shaft of the key, giving it a slight luminous glow. Seeing this particular key brought a small smile to tug at the corner of Ragna's lips. "Jackpot. Hey...ugh, Ralof, was it? Come over and give me a hand, the captain has two keys on her and one of them looks like they're meant for my cuffs."

"I'm coming friend." Ralof answered back after he finished swiping what remained of the Imperial soldier's blood off of his sword before heading towards Ragna. Kneeling down to fetch the ring of keys Ralof then walked behind the Reaper and went to work in freeing his bound hands. "And out of curiosity may I ask what your name is friend? I never did hear it after I went to the chopping block, and since you already know mine I might as well know yours. I mean we are escaping together and it would be a lot easier to call you by your name rather than always calling you 'friend' all the time." Ralof idly chatted as he set the key in place and, with a satisfying 'clink', the slave brands fell off of Ragna's wrists.

Hands now freed Ragna began to flex his left wrist to work whatever kinks and cramps remained in his working arm to disappear, feeling instantly revitalized the second that the cuffs fell off. As his strength continued to gradually return he turned around and faced Ralof with satisfaction. "Thanks for the help. And the names Ragna by the way."

"Well Ragna I think that it's time we continued moving before anymore Imperials decide to come our way." Reaching down the Stormcloak grabbed the now unconscious captain's discarded sword before tossing it to Ragna, who caught it by its handle while it flew through the air. "Take this, if we're going to go any further then you'll have need of it. You do know how to wield a blade, right?"

The moment that the sword had landed in the Reaper's grip he had begun to scrutinize it with a practiced keen eye, thoroughly examining both the condition that the blade was in and the way that it had been designed. He tested its weight out by moving it up and down, and then side to side before offhandedly switching it between a reversed grip and then back to a forward facing grip with the practiced ease of a well-trained sword wielder. Only after he had finished conducting his investigation on the weapon did Ragna choose to speak. "Hmm, the blade looks to be in good condition, and the leather wraped around the hilt lets me keep a solid grip on it. Feels well balanced, but this thing's meant more for thrusting or stabbing attacks rather than slashing." Flipping it once more Ragna held it in a reversed grip before he looked at Ralof. "It's not exactly the type of blade that I'd prefer to use, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. Let's move."

Nodding in confirmation Ralof began to make his way to the other door at the right side of the room, with Ragna close behind. Using the keys that they had acquired from the Imperial captain the blonde unlocked the door and walked on through and began to descend a flight of stairs that was to the right, with Ragna following behind him, but the red clad rebel stopped before turning back to return to the door, an act that was noticed by his blonde companion. Raising one of his brows in confusion the Stormcloak began to question his companion's actions.

"What are you doing Ragna? We have to keep going forward, not backwards."

"I know I know, we have to get out of here fast. Just making sure that if more of these soldiers show up that they'll have a hard time trying to follow us." Returning his focus to the iron door Ragna sheathed his new blade in one of belts before he then reached out and closed it before taking one of its iron bars that was near the handle and, drawing from his now returned vigor, snapped it. He then began to bend it towards him until it was parallel to the floor, then bent it twice around a bar near the handle of the door so that it would hold the door tightly shut. "There. Now they'll have to pry this sucker apart before they can come after us."

Ragna turned back to face Ralof and took a small amount of amusement when he saw the blondes astounded expression at his feat of supernatural strength. Flashing a wolfish grin Ragna continued onward and began to take the flight of stairs down, leaving a stunned Ralof to follow behind him.

"I should be lucky that you are on my side, eh friend?" the Stormcloak mumbled as he followed close behind the Reaper. As the duo continued they neared the end of the stairs then took a right that lead them to a long and wide corridor, with multiple doors on either side, but before they could continue any further a tremendous tremor shook the walls and floors of the keep, bringing both of them to stumble to their knees. The tremor had done more than just shake the keep though, because not two seconds after it had ended a large portion of the roof came crashing down and kicked up a wave of dust on the duo, successfully blocking anyway for them to continue on down the corridor.

"God dammit! Now what the hell happened?" Ragna angrily shouted as he rose back to his feet, shaking his shoulders and dusting himself with his left hand to remover the dust that had settled on his crimson coat and pants.

"If *cough* If I had to guess it's that the dragon is being particular persistent in trying to find more survivors to torment." Ralof said as he stood and dusted himself before he went to inspect if there was a way to bypass the fallen rubble, only to shake his head in agitation when after trying to move a few of the fallen stones he found that they would not budge an inch. "Dame, we'll have to find another way to get through." he said before he turned to the left and had a goofy grin overtake his grim expression. "And I think I just found one." he said as he pointed to the answer to their dilemma, a door to the far left that had survived the collapse unscathed. Grabbing the door's handle Ralof slowly began to opened it, trying to ensure that unlike the roof that had collapsed moments earlier that it would not come crumbling down on them upon being disturbed, and seeing that it held its infrastructure they both ran forward when it was opened enough for the both of them to cross, and enter into the adjourning room.

The room in question seemed to be a dining room of sorts, if the fire that was placed to the far left of the room-with its embers still aflame and a pot boiling over it- and the table that was to the upper right-with three shelves behind it that held wooden bowls and eating utensils-indicated it as such. Two additional tables with two chairs each could be seen to the lower right side of the room, and in the center was a pillar that reached all the way to the room's roof and served as both a hanging and a spice rack of sorts, with freshly killed pheasants and succulently plump rabbits suspended upside down by their feet, just ready to be skinned and plucked to serve as a hearty meal. Hanging around the fresh game was an assortment of dried spices that would have been used for whatever meals would be prepared in this kitchen, some Ragna was all to familiar with-such as the dried cloves of garlic and rosemary-but others were exotic spices that Ragna had never seen before, one being a green and leafy looking herb that held a mint and oregano like smell wafering from it, and another that was a paper thin clump of leaves that were round from their stems before they ended with an elongated point that gave them the appearance of looking like the knife ears that the golden elves had, with a strong zesty smell emitting from them.

'Huh. I wonder what flavor those herbs would create if I added them to some beef. Or would chicken be better to use them on? Or maybe adding them to a broth.' Ragna thought to himself as the culinary part of his mind began to wander at the possibilities that the new herbs could add to his cooking, but was soon snapped out of his eagerness to experiment with the spices by the part of his mind that focused at survival, silently scolding himself at letting his guard down because of simple culinary intrigue. 'Focus. Fight first, cook later.' Mind cleared of distraction Ragna took the lead in continuing into the room, his senses raised so he could pick up any sign of danger nearby, and not a moment too soon as to the far right of the room just beyond his vision he was able to pick up a hushed voice.

"Grab anything that's important and then let's move! The dragons burning everything and we have to retreat now before this fort crashes down on us!" a frantic voiced whispered, shortly being followed by the sound of creaking wood and then a sharp snap.

"I know, Gemion, I know. But these crates have to have something useful in them, maybe even a few potions for us to use. Just be patient and keep a look out while I keep searching." a more calm and collected voice answered back, followed by the sound of shuffling as the second voice continued to search for whatever he was looking for.

Wanting to see if these new individuals were friends or foes Ragna and Ralof rounded past the spice rack that stood in the center of the room and turned to the far right, but instead of encountering fellow runaway rebels they were met with two Imperial soldiers, one who was busy rummaging in an opened crate while the other stood behind him as a look out, and unfortunately he had caught sight of both of them as they stepped into his line of sight.

"Rebels!" the sentry shouted as he unsheathed his sword from his belt, followed by his companion abandoning his scourging of supplies to leap to his feat and ready his blade as well, stance lowered and weight on the balls of his feet so he could spring forward at a moment's notice. Hoping to bypass their latest obstacle Ragna stepped forward in an attempt to pass both soldiers without expending any energy by fighting them.

"Look, we're just trying to survive, just like the two of you. Now either all of us can walk out of this without a scratch and act like we never saw each other, or we can do this the hard way and the ones who survive walk away from all of this." Ragna told the battle readied soldiers in a flat tone but made sure that it still retained a hint of steel to intimidate them into submission, and reinforced it with a heated glare while also raising his new blade to further intimidate the Imperial's in trying to avoid an encounter. "Your choice." The Imperial who had served as a (lousy) lookout began to retract his blade, a hesitant look crossing his features before he was halted by his companion, who elbowed the man in the stomach as he sent him a disapproving side glare for trying to stay his sword to their enemies.

"No deal Stormcloak. You and your ilk are traitors to the Empire and so deserve a traitors death!" the man bellowed before he shot forward, heading on a collision course towards Ragna while his hesitant companion ran to intercept Ralof.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Ragna growled as he bolted forward, followed close by Ralof until they came within reach of their respective opponents, with Ragna and the soldier who had been rummaging in the crate to the left, while Ralof and the hesitant sentry to the right. As Ragna came close to his opponent he saw that the Imperial was readying to slash him with a wide horizontal slash with his gladius, so to counter his attack the Reaper responded with sending an upward diagonal slash to intercept the blade, putting as much force as he could behind his attack as he could muster. The moment that their blades clashed, despite that both were made from the same material's and were of the same design, Ragna's sword proved the victor as it cleaved its way through the Imperial's steel like it was made of paper, flinging the upper half of the blade so it spiraled through the air before it clattered on the floor and left only a sliver of metal attached to the handle that the soldier still had a hold of. As the man stood stunned at his sliced sword Ragna sprang forward and delivered a harsh sideways kick with his right leg, catching the Imperial in the ribs and sending him flying to the left and having him crash into the table at the upper right of the room, sending splinters of wood flying. If a few cracked ribs and slamming into a hardwood table was not punishment enough for the man then the fact that all three of the shelves behinde the table began to fall forward, shaken by the shockwave made when the soldier collided with the table, and landed on top of his body just seemed to add further insult to his already battered body.

"What do you know, I still got it." Ragna said with a snarky smile before he turned to assist his new ally with his battle, only to find that Ralof had already somehow disarmed the soldier he was facing and held him by the scruff of his armor, repeatedly bashing him in the head with the pommel of his acquired sword. Once the Storcloak deemed that he had punished the soldier enough, and had beaten his opponent to near unconsciousness, he let the Imperial fall to the ground.

"Well, that takes care of that." Ralof said as he walked over the unconscious soldier's body and headed to the right where both of their adversaries had been rummaging before he and Ragna had interrupted them. "Hey come look at this friend. It's a storeroom, come and help me look through these crate and barrels for anything we can use." Ralof said as he began to rummage through the crate that the soldier had previously been going through.

Seeing as they could use whatever supplies they could find Ragna went past his companion in the small room and smashed the cover of a barrel to the far left of the shelves, and then he began to shift through its contents. "Let's see...we got a bag of salt, some wedges of cheese, and looks like some cups. Eh, nothing useful." He then moved to the next container and pried its lid off and continued his search, though when he came across a certain bundle of objects he peeked his head out of the container to ask his Stormcloak ally a question. "Hey you said that I should look for some potions, right?" Ragna nonchalantly asked.

"That's right. Any potions you find, take them. We'll need them."

"Well then," Ragna answered back as he pulled a small burlap sack from the crate he had been searching through "I think that we'll have more than enough with these."

Ceasing his search of the barrel in front of him Ralof backed away from the container before he walked to Ragna's side, reaching inside of the sack while Ragna held it to retrieve one of the clinking objects from within it to confirm that it was the aforementioned potions. His question was answered as he pulled a small and pyramid shaped red glass vial that was sealed with a cork from the bag. It was small for something so important, barely the size of the Stormcloaks fist, but if the wide grin that came across his face told Ragna anything it was that its size did not matter one bit, only what it held within.

"Ha-ha, the gods seem to be smiling down upon us now friend." Uncorking the red container Ralof then chugged the contents of the potion, greedily taking large gulps to empty its contents as fast as he could. When he had finished swallowing the potion he lazily tossed the glass vial over his shoulder so it would smash behind him, and his body had a small tremor run through it, most likely an after effect from the concoction he had just swallowed. It only took a second for the effects of the potion to be seen, as any scratch or cut that was present on the blonde's arms or face slowly began to seal themselves shut and then fade away, as if they had never existed in the first place.

"There, now I feel as refreshed as a cool Skyrim breeze. Hey Ragna, hurry up and drink one as well. It might not be the strongest variant but it will probably be enough to heal your chest wound, and maybe fix that lame arm of yours as well."

"I highly doubt that, but it's nice to think positive sometimes." Ragna bluntly mumbled as he set the sack on top of a barrel to free his left arm, reaching inside of it to retrieve one of the potions. Once he had gotten a hold of one the Reaper pulled his hand out of the bag and brought the vial to his mouth, biting onto the bottle's cork so he could pop it off with his teeth, and then turned sideways to spit it out of his mouth.

Now normally the Reaper would never drink random vials that he would find in some random barrel just because someone told him that it was good for him (because that was how the Matron of the church he had been raised in had gotten him to drink his medicine once when he was a kid, minus the barrel and more of saying that it was candy...tricky witch) but the adrenalin that had been pumping through his blood was starting to fade, and the accumulating fatigue of his still healing body were beginning to catch up with him. That and the burning, itching sensation of his chest was beginning to rear its ugly head again, and that Rlof had also drank the potion and hadn't kneeled over vomiting blood helped seal the deal that it was safe to drink.

"Bottoms up." Bringing the vial to his lips Ragna closed his eye and tilted his head back to start chugging its contents. Since Ralof had drunk the concoction and had only had a slight shiver run through his body Ragna had believed that the taste of the liquid would not be as bad as he believed it would be, and he was right...it was worse. So very, _**very**_ worse. The horrid liquid had less of a watery like texture and felt more like a thick semi-gelatinous slime, sticking to Ragna's tongue and the back of his mouth before it slithered down his throat, leaving an extremely bitter and sour berry like aftertaste. He had nearly spewed the contents back up, but reminded himself that the concoction was meant to heal him so he forced himself to re-swallow whatever had decided to return up his throat, letting it slam back down his gullet until it had finally-and mercifully-settled in his stomach. Tossing the potion's bottle away from him Ragna began to violently cough and gag as he was left reeling from the awful tasting medicine. "W-*cough*What the *cough**cough* h-hell was in that crap! *cough**cough*"

"Eh, it varies depending on who makes the potion." Ralof casually said as he shrugged his shoulders though he had a look of concern cross his face a second later. "Also you drank the wrong type of potion. You were supposed to drink a health potion, not a magicka potion friend. Unless you're a mage. Are you one?"

Eyes nearly bulging from his head Ragna turned back to look at the vial that he had dropped, now noticing that in his attempt to heal himself he had taken a totally different potion, just as Ralof had observed. It had appeared to be identical to the one that his companion had taken, being the same size and having the same pyramid like shape, but where the one that Ralof had drank had been a shiny red colored vial the one that he had just downed had a jolting blue pigment instead. Before he could ponder on what would happen to him in having consumed the wrong type of potion Ragna began to feel...strange. He did not necessarily feel that he was about to expire from having drunk the concoction but rather that it was beginning to take effect as it did, well, whatever the hell it was meant to do.

It started as the liquid had settled in his stomach, a sort of electrical jolt ran through him that gradually began to travel up his spine and spread throughout his midriff. This electric like sensation continued to spread and spread, coursing through every vein and every fiber that composed Ragna's being, filling him with an almost primordial sense of empowerment, and as the electric like current began to grow and pulse rapidly through his body it suddenly...stopped, or rather all the released energy felt like it began to reverse its course in his veins and began to travel back to his breast, accumulating the energy that had been spreading through his body. As quickly as it had been building up in the center of his chest the gathered energy then shot through his body once more, its new course sending it howling to Ragna's right side. Or more specifically it had begun to be drawn to Ragna's dormant arm, to his Azure Grimoire.

The moment that the jolting energy neared his midnight colored appendage it began to be sucked in towards it in an accelerated manner, almost as if the Blazeblue was trying to greedily devour every ounce of the stimulating energy the same way that a starved wolf would a freshly killed prey. Not a single trace of the rousing energy was left to linger behind as it was fully absorbed, leaving behind a sense of hollowness in Ragna's body now that the electrical energy no longer ran in his blood. This was soon replaced with an intense wave of pain, a pain originated from his limp right hand.

'W-What?'

Pulse after pulse, wave after agonizing wave, the pain that flowed forth from his arm continued to grow with each passing moment, almost bringing the Reaper to his knees and forcing him to unleash a pained howl from his throat, but it was only because of his iron will and stubbornness that he forced himself to stand on buckling feet and clench his jaws shut so that only a gurgled whine would leave his lips. Then as quickly as his torment had begun it started to fade, strained pain replaced with relief, with the final pulse that emerged from his arm and resonating through his body signaling that his ordeal was finally over, leaving Ragna to take gasps of air to settle his pain riddled body.

"*Huff*...*Huff*...Is...Is it finally o-over?..Dame." Tired and aching Ragna leaned forward and placed his hands on a crate to steady his trembling form, bringing his right hand to his face to swipe away the thin sheen of sweat that had formed during his ordeal. It was after he had placed his hand back down that he realized the oddity that took place in the action he had just done; he had used his **right** hand to wipe away his sweat. Staring down at his arm he tested out his now functioning appendage by folding his fingers towards his palm, flexing them back and forth until he could feel sensation in his hand again, then moving on to raising his arm and moving it side to side, the feeling of pins and needles that lingered in it after it was functioning replaced with relief as its sense of touch began to flood back into his numb arm. "Hey...I can move my arm again. Does that mean that..." Seeing if his next assumption would also be proven true Ragna began to slowly force his right eye to open, revealing the bright crimson orb to the world once again.

"Are you alright Ragna?" Ralof asked with concern, but raised an eyebrow when he saw that Ragna now sported a crimson right eye.

Turning back to face Ralof the Reaper brought his right hand up and curled it into a fist, releasing a string of cracks and pops as he added his renewed strength to return into his awakened appendage, with a wolfish smirk spreading across his face that was made all the more menacing with his returned, almost shining, red right eye.

"Oh, I'm better than alright. Not exactly at where I need to be..." Reaching to where he had placed the sack Ragan once again reached inside it and retrieved another potion, this time it was the red vial that his companion had drunk to heal himself. "But I'm about to get back to peek performance in no time."

Without hesitation Ragna uncorked the container before he began to guzzle it down the same way he had done the previous potion, preferring to drink it all at once so that he would not have to have its flavor linger on his taste buds any longer than it had to while also bracing himself for whatever pain would arise from ingesting a second of the mystical concoctions. Only that the pain that he was bracing himself for never came, and in its place a warm and soothing sensation emerged from his stomach and began to spread through his body, relaxing and revitalizing him from his ordeals. The taste of the second potion was also different from the previous one because instead of a sour and bitter slime it held a more oatmeal like texture, and it even tasted slightly like oatmeal but with a dash of eggs and a hint of...was it beef? pork?...well it tasted like some form of meat mixed in the blend that gave it an appealing taste.

Tossing aside the empty bottle once he had downed its contents Ragna looked down at his injuries to see if it would begin to work its wonders on his charred chest just as it had done to his companion's minor wounds and scratches. Lo and behold the potion did begin to accomplish its function as right before Ragna's very eyes he witnessed that the blackened and ruined skin on his chest began to flake off in sheets, an in its place healthy pale skin began to break through until not a single sign that Ragna had been shot with lightning was left, save for his burnt and torn shirt that left him bare chested were it not for his crimson coat, which was surprisingly unscratched with everything that had happened.

"Alright now I'm ready to go." Grabbing the sack of potions and hiding it within the folds of his coat Ragna began to advance past his companion and headed to the second door that was at the end of the storeroom to go further into the keep. When said door refused to budge when he attempted to push it open the Reaper applied a bit more force so that it would open, but it resulted with the door being ripped off its hinges and loudly slamming to the floor. Cringing at both his underestimation of his returned strength and the noise he had created Ragna looked to Ralof and found that the Stormcloak was giving him a deadpanned-if somewhat annoyed-stare because of his actions.

"As impressive as your strength is my friend how about you leave opening the next doors we come across to me. After all, we are trying to be stealthy in case there are more soldiers within these walls, not trying to look for ways to alert them to where we are." Passing the red coated Reaper Ralof took the lead as they began to continue their course to freedom, rounding a left corner and going down a corridor until they found another flight of stairs that continued to delve deeper into the bowels of the keep. They descended the flight of stone stairs with quick but quiet steps, aiming to muffle their approach as best they could as they neared the bottom, but both of them came to a stop when a powerful mixture of odors assaulted their noses. A horrid mixture of stale sweat, putrid bodily fluids, and a pungent copper like smell that overpowered all the other collective odors, a smell that both warriors knew well because it was found most abundant in battles and wars; blood.

"Trolls blood! I think we found a torture room. What have these Imperial bastards been doing in this- wait. Do you hear that friend?" Before he could say what awaited them at the bottom of the stairs the blue clothed man stopped and raised one of his hands to his ears and cupped it to hear better. Ragna, since his senses were more heightened due to his Blazblue and training, did not need to follow Ralof's actions and easily heard that that the reason why his ally had ceased his decent was because coming just around the right corner at the end of the stairs there was a clash of noises, and from what he was able to make from the collision of noises was that it sounded like a fierce and bloody skirmish was taking place just below them.

"For the Empire!" came the zealous battle cry of one of the members of the scuffle at the bottom of the stairs.

"Skyrim belongs to the Nords!" a familiar cry sounded in retaliation of the first one followed by the sound of metal impacting wood.

"Fight me like a man, you skeever-scat bastard!" a feminine voice shouted with fury.

"Aim for their shoulders Ralorius! Use that confounded mace of yours like it's intended to be used and break their dame bones!" a rasping voice shouted followed by the crackling sound of electricity being discharged, indicating that this individual was a mage of sorts.

The ringing and clanging sound of steel clashing against steel, with voices calling out hoarse battle cries and curses, some known to the Reaper and some exotic curses told both Ralof and Ragna that down the flight of stairs were another pair of allies, and that they had been intercepted by Imperials. As Ragna unsheathed his sword and readied himself for whatever they would encounter at the bottom of the stairs Ralof had turned to him and with a steeled gaze that showed his thinly concealed fury raised his sword with valor.

"Come on Ragna, they need our help. Victory or Sovngarde!"

Shouting his battle cry Ralof leaped to the bottom of the stairs and rushed around its corner, entering the fray to help his comrades but leaving an irritated Ragna behind to follow him.

"Idiot! Wait for-, you know what, screw it!" he growled as he too jumped the remaining steps to reach the bottom and turned to rush into the room where the battle was taking place.

Apparently Ralof had been right in his assumption that the room they had entered was intended for torture as it had all the nifty little decorations that one would find that would assist in the art of inflicting pain and suffering, such as the pair of shackles that where imbedded in the wall to the left of the room which still had the old decaying bones of the last poor sod who had been in this room still on display and being held in a standing position only because his shackles were the only things holding his bones up. Just in ahead of the stairs and lined against its wall were three large rust coated iron cages that were only large enough to hold one occupant each, with the bones of previous victims lying in the cages to the left and the right but the cage in the middle of both had what looked like a freshly killed man inside of it lying on the cages floor on his side. And the piece of resistance in this room that made it every sadists dream come true was that in the center of the room were two stone pillars that rose halfway to the roof and that had a heavy wooden beam on top and connecting them with two smaller diagonal beams acting as supports for the larger one, with iron chains dangling down that ended with cuffs indicating that this construct was meant to be where prisoners were to be strung up and be left defenseless as their captor tortured them to their leisure. What kind of torture that whoever was master of this room preferred was made apparent by the leather whip tossed in front it and the copious amount of blood stains that covered the floor below it, some of it long dried and flaking while other pools appeared more...fresh.

Turning his attention away from the torture devices and the scenes of cruelty Ragna focused on the upper right of the room where he saw Ralof engaging in a fight with a tall Imperial soldier. The Imperial was a semi-bald man donned in the same leather and chainmail armor that Hadvar had worn which indicated that he was higher in rank than the standard Imperial grunt Ragna had seen, and was tall compared to Ragna as he was almost seven feet tall. While Ralof fought like a rabid beast, delivering quick and precise slashes with his sword to fell the large soldier, the Imperial's armaments-a one handed dull grey iron mace and a round wooden shield that had iron trimmings with a large iron 'x' symbol crossing its center with iron studs surrounding it- made sure that he was well fortified for the blue clothed man's onslaught, expertly deflecting Ralof's sword blows with his shield before either pushing the blonde back with a hard shield bash or retaliating with a wide horizontal swing from his mace to push him away before the large soldier hid behind the safety of his shield again. He never attacked first and instead waited for Ralof to have the first swing, baiting the Stormcloak so that he could counter it with his shield and then push him back or attempt to land a crippling blow with his mace.

Hearing more sounds of battle coming farther from the lower right of the room Ragna saw that two more individuals were locked in mortal combat while another lied motionless on the ground near a steel barred holding area, one of them a withered old Imperial mage who donned a leather hood and was armed only with a simple iron dagger in his right hand and a charged ball of arcane electricity in the other, while the other combatant was a blond haired women who wore the blue clothed armor of the Stormcloak rebels and who duel-wielded two iron war axes in her hands.

It was apparent that the old mage was more experienced in torturing rather than fighting due to his inability to land a single hit of his wide and frantic slashes from his dagger on the rebel, who easily dodged backwards anytime that the old geezer took a swipe at her with his small blade, but his quick reaction at discharging his lightning spell at her whenever she would attempt to close the distance to hack at him with her axes and retreating to exploit his long ranged blasts showed that he had a greater understanding of tactical analysis and application that more than made up for his lack of battle finesse, an attribute that the rebel was finding increasingly annoying and dangerous as her battle continued to drag on with her slippery foe.

"By Talos, stop worming your way away from me and fight me like a man you coward! Or do you Imperials have no honor in battle?!"

"Ah, but if I did that then I'd be quite the fool my dear. I'd rather be labeled a cowered and live than be stupid and dead," the mage sneered as he jumped away from another barrage of swipes that were aimed at his head and torso, slipping away to quickly raise his readied spell at the woman after she had overexerted herself with her rapid swings "Just like you."

With a triumphed and crooked smile the mage readied to send a stream of lightning to vaporize the Stormcloak rebel, but so assured was he in his victory that he did not notice the sword that was sent flying towards his outstretched hand until it was too late. One moment his hand was attached to his wrist, ready to blast an arcane spell at his foe and send her to Oblivion, and the next moment he now had a bloody stump in its place that only accomplished in spraying small squirts of his precious red life fluid onto the floor. And where was his severed hand you ask? Well the answer was that it was now impaled into the wall inside of the caged holding area behind him, displayed like some form of macabre trophy, an almost ironic form of punishment for someone who delighted in carving and mangling the bodies of others.

"GYYYYAAAAAAAAAHH! MY HAND, DIVINES MY HAN-, GAH!" His cries of anguish were halted momentarily as his previous opponent had closed the distance between them and swung one of her axes to sever the mage's other hand off to fully disarm him, then raised her second axe and buried it deep into the left side of the man's neck, the cold edge of her iron biting deep into his withered and aged flesh. "Gurlk!" As blood gushed from his mouth and dribbled from his nose the female warrior placed her foot on the dying man's chest and brutally kicked him towards the ground while she simultaneously wretched her weapon free from the Imperial's nearly decapitated body. When she began to turn to see who had entered the fray to assist her she only managed to catch a glimpse of a red and white blur as it passed her at an astonishing speed, its path heading straight for her fellow Nord and his battle with the behemoth of a Legionare.

Ralof's slash was once more blocked by the massive Imperial soldier's shield, bouncing off one of the iron studs and was forced to back-step to avoided the soldier's furious over hand attack that he sent in retaliation before retreating behind his shield once more, expecting that the Stormcloak would attempt another barrage of sword swipes and braced himself for the inevitable impact. Said impact hit his shield but did not come from the blond man's sword but rather it came courtesy from a red and black boot that slammed into the center of his shield, denting the metal inward and shattering the wood base before he was sent flying to slam against the wall behind him, the sound of snapping bones resonating through the room.

His arm and spine were both fractured from the force of the kick that had destroyed his shield and from being slammed against the wall with such an alarming force, leaving the once imposing man to slump forward and land face first into the ground, sinking into the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness to escape the immeasurable pain that rang throughout his broken body.

Satisfied at having assisted in disposing the two enemies that were currently in the way of his freedom Ragna lowered his right leg and straightened his composure as Ralof walked towards him and their newest ally came to greet them, giving an acknowledging nod to Ralof before turning to Ragna and having an amused smile cross her tired features.

"Shor's bones! I'm glad to see you made it Ralof, and you," she exclaimed as she turned to Ragna "I knew I recognized you when you ran by. You're that stranger, who helped us during the ambush, aren't you?" she gushed as she looked him up and down with an intrigued stare before her grin grew larger. "Hah! Yep, same red coat, same white hair and strange pants. And that strength, well, there's no doubt that you're the same one."

Ragna raised one of his eyebrows when the woman continued to smile at him, finding it strange how she beamed at him in such a welcoming manner seeing as he was more used to people dismissing or cowering away from him.

"Well I wouldn't say that I actually helped you guys, I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time." Ragna casually remarked as he tried to dissuade the woman that his attack on their enemies had not been intentional but rather circumstantial, but the rebel only sagely smiled as she continued evaluate him.

"Ah, but the right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in a battle friend, like how the both of you saved my hide right now. Those two would have killed me if either of you two hadn't stumbled across me." she exclaimed as she rolled one of her shoulders to express the fatigue that she had endured facing both men before they came to her aid. "Oh, where are my manners." Holstering one of her axes in her belt she reached out her right hand in a hand shake to the Reaper. "My name's Hjolia, and you are..." she inquired as she waited for Ragna to shake her hand.

Reluctantly the Reaper took her outstretched hand to shake before he continued.

"Ragna. Ragna the Bloodedge."

After the exchange of pleasantries was over Ralof step towards Hjolia with a concerned and questioning look. "Hjolia, as much as I'm glad that you are fine I have to ask, was Jarl Ulfric with you before you were attacked?"

Hjolia's bright attitude faded to a down-cast expression on being questioned by Ralof, indicating that the news that she would reveal would not be what the man wanted to hear.

"I'm sorry Ralof, but I haven't seen him since the dragon showed up. I was too busy running away with Brundr to escape the flames and the both of us wound up hiding in here, but then these soldiers came back and, well...well Brundr didn't make it." she sorrowfully finished as she turned to the downed form of the Stormcloak warrior near the enclosed area she had been fighting the old mage at. The cause of the man's death was seen to have come from the large hole that had been burned through his chest, with a large section of his leather armor having been burnt away along with a portion of his chainmail shirt before his skin had been seared to the bone.

"Dame." Ralof cursed as he ran a hand over his face in frustration. "Well we will just have to press on and hope that they made it out safely. If we linger any longer then we risk being captured by the Imperials again. Come on, let's move." Readying his blade as a precaution Ralof began to walk towards a corridor just beyond the large iron cages of the torture room that was lined with holding cells on either side, with Hjolia following close behind him but they both stopped when they noticed that Ragna was not following them.

"Ragna come on, we have to keep moving." Ralof chastised the Reaper but the red clothed man simply raised his left arm to dismiss Ralof's worries.

"Yeah yeah I get it, but I need to get my sword back. Just hold on for a bit will ya." Continuing forward after his crass dismissal of Ralof's caution Ragna entered the caged off area and walked forward to the impaled hand to retrieve his sword but stopped when a glint of grey just to the left of the sword's position caught his interest. Following the shining he found that the glint had originated from an assortment of weapons hung at a rack that were reflecting the light from some nearby candles that were hung on the wall and to the side of a large wooden desk.

Of the five weapons that were secured in the rack two were the repeating gladius styled swords that the Imperials chose to equip as their standard choice of armament and the other two were the iron maces that the large soldier had wielded, weapons that Ragna either already possessed or took no interest in, but the last weapon-hung right in-between the collected assortment of death dealing tools-took his immediate interest. It was neither a short sword, mace, or dagger, but a large gleaming great sword. It had a double-sided blade made of tempered iron that was sharpened to wicked edges and was a little over four feet long with fin like protrusions at its base that were meant to add further protection by catching and misdirecting an enemies blade away from its hand guard, and it also had a wooden one and a half foot long hilt that ended in an iron pommel in the shape of a rounded 'w' with an added iron ring encircling the center of the hilt to add further grip. Its guard was slightly curved upward and gave it a crescent moon appearance but was thick enough to cushion any blows that were aimed at the wielders hands. All around its design was meant to be simplistic in nature but also sturdy enough to serve its purpose on the battlefield.

Intrigued by the new weapon Ragna abandoned the sword that still nailed the severed hand to the wall and instead went to lift the great sword from where it rested. Grabbing its hilt with both hands he began to analyze it the same way that he had done with the first blade, testing out its weight and then closely inspecting the blade itself to determine if he could find any nicks or flaws along its edges and was content when he found that none marred the finely crafted sword. Switching to a one handed grip he began to twirl the blade to a forward grip then to a reverse grip to get a feel of its balance to see if it was just as versatile as his lost weapon, Bloodscythe. Sadly it was not, seeming to be a tad on the lighter side when he compared it to how he remembered how Bloodscythe weighed. Well light for him at least.

"Dame, maybe if you had a bit more weight..." he grumbled, a tad disappointed in the blade for falling a little short on his expectations, but soon schooled his face back to one of indifference when he remembered that even if it was lighter it still had a longer reach than the sword he had used moments before, and that it would be easier to fight with a weapon that was closer his usual fighting style than to have to develop a new one on the fly. "Well looks like I got myself another new sword. Just hope that it will last until I find a better one to replace it." He gave the large blade another flourish twirl before he sheathed it behind his back where his two large belts intersected, having it rest the same way that he had done with Bloodscythe.

Satisfied with his new weapon he began to turn to leave, but stopped when he noticed that underneath the desk that was next to the weapons rack a small grey back pack had been hidden away beneath it, its flap having opened after it had been lazily tossed under the desk and revealing that it contained five tomes and three small pouches that where tied off with yarn. Curious Ragna crouched and retrieved the back pack, standing back up and then rummaging through it with his attention focused on the tomes first.

"Let's see, huh? _Brief history of the Empire: Volume 1_ _._ Perfect, this can give me some clues on just where the hell I've ended up." Flipping through the assorted books he noticed that the following three tomes behind it were the continued volumes of the same subject but upon seeing the fifth tome he tilted his head in confusion because it seemed out of place when compared to the others.

The first reason why the fifth tome stood apart from the others was because while the first four tomes had a brownish-tan colored hard cover and appeared to be in pristine condition the fifth tome had a dull, almost boring shade of dark grey cover and looked to have been older than the other four with its crinkled and yellowed parchment along with its cover seeming to have been weathered through exposure to the elements. The book was also odd in the fact that unlike the others it had no title to be seen anywhere on it, be it along its side or on its front cover, and instead had the same diamond shaped dragon symbol that the Imperial troops had marked on their equipment and banners printed at the center of its cover, though it was a vibrant shade of silver now rather than a bright red so that it would stand out from the otherwise dull color of the tome.

'And just what are you doing in there?' the Reaper inquired to the oddly placed book but was interrupted in his thoughts when he heard footsteps coming closer to his position. Looking up from the pack Ragna saw that Ralof had decide to come and investigate what had been taking up Ragna's attention while Hjolia stayed near the corridor's entrance, acting as a lookout in case any more soldier's headed their way.

"What have you found Ragna?"

"Well I got a better sword and a pack with what looks like it has a few tomes in it, which I'll be taking with me." Noticing how Ralof raised a brow at this Ragna continued. "Its more for my sake. Kinda personal. Also," he paused as he brought one of the pouches out and gave it a little shake causing the clinking noise of coins to be heard coming from it "It looks like I found someone's little stash while I was at it."

"Good, we'll need all the gold we can find for when we get out." Ralof nodded before motioning for Ragna to follow him. Deciding that there was now nothing that interested him in the torture room Ragna swung his newly acquired pack around his shoulders before he began to follow his new companion and their tag along.

Making their way forward the group rounded a left corner at the end of the corridor and found another short flight of stairs, leading them into what looked to be another section of the torture room, though this new room appeared to be meant more for starving or isolating victims rather than physical torture as indicated by the man sized cages suspended from the roof and scattered along the floor. Some of the cages had the bones of their victims still inside of them while one held the corpse of a recently deceased man, his body withered away to the bone from malnutrition before succumbing to starvation. Truly it looked like the poor soul had suffered a horrible ordeal before death claimed him in its welcoming embrace. Ragna could only grimace at seeing what lengths these Imperials went to extract information from criminal's and rebels.

"Just what kind of medieval bullshit did I land myself in?"

Continuing past the hanging horrors the group found themselves to the far right of the room where a section of the brick wall had been demolished and opened into what looked like a naturally formed tunnel, with some of the grey bricks haphazardly scattered on the floor in front of the opening. Curious of the new escape route Hjolia walked ahead and began to inspect its integrity before sticking her head past the thresh hold to try and peer further inside of the cave passage, turning back to Ralof and Ragna once her assessment of the passage was done.

"Looks like the Imperials were expanding this dungeon before they discovered some sort of cave entrance here. They even set up a few torches further in, and my gut tells me it's because they were trying to convert this passage into another part of the keep. If we follow this passage then there's a chance that we'll find an exit to it at the end." As Hjolia was about to lead the way into the passage Ragna placed his hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Wait a sec, how do we even know that there's an exit at the end of this tunnel? What if after going deeper in we just wind up getting lost in an underground cavern, or we get blocked off by more falling derbies? We'll just be walking blindly into another cave in, or worse another ambush." Though he did not want to sound pessimistic-believing that his time around Noel and Celica had at least imprinted a smidge of their almost diabetic inducing optimism on him-he also knew that he had to be realistic in this situation. After all if he was right then they would just be waltzing into what could be a fatale encounter or a disaster just waiting to happen.

Pondering his words Hjolia became hesitant when she set her sights on the passage again, taking Ragna's warning into account. Ralof on the other hand decided to add his own thoughts on the situation at hand.

"Listen Ragna, I know that this is not the ideal situation that you want to be in, but right now we are caught between a rock and a hard place my friend, and we are left with little choices." The rebel raised his hand an pointed to the tunnel ahead of them. "On one hand we can make our way through this passage and hope that we can find an exit and make it through this with our lives. Or...," This time he thumbed behind him to the stairs that they had descended just moments ago. "We head back the way we came from and hope that the dragon is gone, and the Imperials along with it, but I think that that would be too much to ask form the Divines"

After he finished a harsh tremor ran through the keep once more, shaking dust loose from the ceiling so that it rained down on them while also knocking down a few of the suspended cages from the ceiling, causing a few of the intact skeletal remains to clatter against the floor and have bits of bones scattered all about the room. The skull of one skeleton had actually managed to not only shoot out from between the iron bars of its cage once it impacted against the floor, but it had also rolled its way all across the room until it came to rest near Ragna's right foot, its ghastly grin and empty eye sockets facing upward so that it appeared like it was staring blankly into Ragna's soul.

"OKITHINKIT'STIMETOGETTHEHELLOUTOFHERENOWLETSGO!" Wasting no time the crimson clad criminal sped past both Ralof and Hjolia, reaching a good distance before he stopped and remembered that he was supposed to stick close to them so that they wouldn't get lost in exploring the cave. But hey he had rushed ahead because it looked like another cave in was about to happen. Yeah, that was the reason and not because that skull had rolled directly to him and gave him a haunting smile because that would just be ridiculous. Totally absurd. Now way no how.

'...'

Ok so maybe it also was a factor, but it was not the sole reason why he bolted.

While Ragn waited where he had stopped both Ralof and Hjolia raised a questioning eyebrow at their allies' strange antics, but then they both just shrugged their shoulders before following Ragna's lead and catching up to the Reaper, continuing onward and delving deeper into the underground passage.

So far their trek only led them through a winding naturally formed tunnel, with the occasional torch nailed to the wall or basin filed with glowing embers brightening the otherwise dark interior indicating that Hjolia's earlier assumption that the Imperials had tried to include the natural. It also wasn't as complex as Ragna had worried about so if they did find their passage blocked further in the Reaper was satisfied in knowing that they could easily backtrack to the keep if need be.

Their small group was just about to turn around a left bend at the end of the passage, but were halted when they heard more voices coming just around the corner. Voices that did not sound like those of fellow rebels.

"Crap." Ragna mumbled before he motioned for his two companions to stop and then signaled for them to follow his lead as he cautiously edged himself closer to the corner. With their backs against the wall Ragna raised a finger to his lips to quiet them before returning his attention to the voices just beyond his vision. With his enhanced hearing he was just able to make out what the men where conversing about.

"This is bad, really bad. This was supposed to be a simple execution, a way to finally end to this war, but now...now we have an actual dragon flying through the skies, raining death upon us. It's the end of the world I tell you!"

"Get a hold of yourself soldier!" a more athorative voice boomed at the unknown man's distress, attempting to silence the man while at the same time snap him back into his duties.

"Get a hold of myself? How can you tell me to get a hold of myself when everything has gone to Oblivion in a hand basket!? The village is being razed to the ground and the rebels have escaped! And now we are sitting here in this cave, just waiting for the keep to come crumbling down on us when we should be trying to find a way out of here!"

"Our orders were to evacuate any civilians left and then to wait until General Tullius arrives. So shut it and wait at your post until you are told to do otherwise soldier." The second voice shouted his tone stern and uncompromising as he tried to order the first individual to follows his orders and return to his station.

"Screw your orders! I'm not going to idly wait to be killed by a dragon!" the first man shouted, his voice filled with hysteric paranoia. Following the man's outburst the sound of scuffling could be heard, with the voices of three more men emerging from around the corner.

"Stop! Do you want to be court-martialed?"

"Let me go! I don't want to die in this god's forsaken village, let me go!"

"Hold him still."

"By Dibella's tits someone just knock him out already!"

Following the last voices a loud thwack was heard, silencing the sounds of struggle.

Curious as to what was happening Ragna dared to take a peek around the corner that he was hiding against, but was cautious enough that he only hand a quick peek at what lay ahead of him before he retreated back and turned to his two allies.

"Dammit. Alright it looks like we have more soldiers to fight through, and from what I was able to see there were five of them."

"How are they armed?" Ralof asked as he slowly unsheathed his blade, with Hjolia following his lead by readying both of her axes.

"One of them is a captain and he's armed with a steel shield and sword, and the other four look like the standard grunts with two of them armed with swords and the other two are archers with swords strapped to their hips." Unsheathing his great sword Ragna continued to break down their enemies current situation. "Lucky us it looks like they're already taking care of their numbers for us."

"What do you mean?"

"Sounded like one of them snapped under pressure and they knocked him out cold to shut him up. If we hurry we'll be able to blind-side em' while they're still disorganized."

"Alright, but what about the layout of the room ahead?" Hjolia asked.

"Looks like a sizeable cavern that has a small stream cutting through the middle of it before it drops through a hole in the wall. Where we are at we'll enter the room on a raised platform, with the left side having a small bridge that crosses to a second raised platform, with a second bridge that connects that to the entrance where they knocked out that soldier. To the right there are a short flight of carved stairs that lead to the lowered half of the cavern where the stream in running through and leads to a second flight of stairs that rise to the same exit the bridges lead." Ragna cracked his neck before he continued. "The captain, two archers and the knocked out grunt are near the exit, while the second swordsman is in the middle of the lowered section."

Ralof rolled his shoulders in anticipation for the coming struggle before he set his face in a stoic mask. "Alright, I will take the lower section while you and Hjolia should take the bridges. While the two of you engage the captain and distract the archers I'll take out the soldier a the lower section before taking the second stairs to assist you in taking out whoever remains."

"Hmph. Sounds like a plan to me." Ragna grunted in confirmation.

"I'm ready when the both of you are." Hjolia said as she readied herself to spring into motion.

"Alright, on my mark...," Ragna said as he readied his new weapon so they could commence their blitz attack. "Now!"

Like a lightning bolt Ragna took off ahead of the two, racing across the first bridge before Hjolia followed a second behind him, straggling at first due to his speed but making it across the first bridge as Ragna was halfway over the second. Ralof had also opted to reach his target while the element of surprise was still on his side, leaping over the stone steps before sprinting towards the soldier the moment his heels hit the floor and bringing his sword over his head as he aimed a heavy vertical blow at the unsuspecting soldier's exposed back.

Unfortunaly the soldier had managed to catch a glimpse of Ragna and Hjolia as they were making a beeline towards his unit, and at hearing heavy foot falls just behind him he was able to unsheathed his sword and whirled around just in time to block Ralof's attack. The ringing of steel meeting steel echoed throughout the cavern, alerting the other soldiers that something had gone horribly wrong.

"It's the Stormcloa-Oof!" was all the soldier was able to call out before he was silenced when Ralof used his free hand to deliver a hard gut punch that took the wind right out of him.

"Stormcloaks?" the alerted captain said before spotting the crimson coated Reaper barreling right towards, his newly acquired great sword dragging behind him as he readied a devastating horizontal swing to bisect the captain. Thinking quick the captain took a step back while bringing his shield up to defend himself just as the large blade made contact with it, leaving a deep gash in the tempered steel and wood while also pushing the captain further back. Thinking that Ragna would need time to ready himself after exerting his strength in the powerful swing the captain lept forward and attempted to skewer him with his gladius sword, but was surprised when-in a show of both superhuman strength and reflexes-Ragna was able to easily reel his blade back in front of him and turn it so that the flat side of his blade blocked the tip of the captain's sword at the last second, sending sparks flying as his steel bounced off the large iron blade.

While the captain was still off balanced after having his attack thwarted Hjolia had managed to not only catch up to Ragna but also run past both him and the captain, zooming towards the still stunned archers before they could ready any arrows to assist their brothers in arms.

Before she was near enough to attack them with her axes she noted the faster of the duo had recovered enough when he spotted her and was already attempting to notch an arrow to send her way. Hoping to stop him she reeled her left arm back and, summoning as much strength as she could, flung one of her axes towards the soldier. Her aim proved true as after her axe tumbled end over end through the air it found itself imbedded deep into the soldier's face, causing blood to squirt out from the injury before his corps fell backward with his bow and arrow clattering harmlessly on the ground.

Aiming to add the second archer to her kill list Hjolia leapt the remaining distance to reach the second soldier, readying her axe to deliver a diagonal slash on the man as she descended, but the soldier proved to be quicker on his feet than his fallen comrade dodging to the right before using his bow as a club to smack her in the small of her back as she missed her mark.

Hissing in pain Hijolia retaliated by twisting around and sending a horizontal slash behind her that forced the archer to bring his bow up in an attempt to shield himself and redirect the axe swing. While it did spare him from being slashed by the axe it had also resulted in his bow being cut in two, rendering his arrows useless and forcing him to draw his sheathed sword to engage the woman in close quarter combat.

"Alright Imperial dog," Hjolia growled as she lowered herself into a fighting stance while giving her remaining axe a flourish twirl. "Let's see what you're made of. Yaaaaaah!" Unleashing a furious battle cry the blue clothed woman charged to meet her leather clad foe, axe held high above her as she readied to cleave it through the soldier's head.

While Hjolia and Ragna continued to fight their respective enemies Ralof decided to end his battle with his foe before it could drag on any longer than it should. Charging forward he ducked beneath a horizontal swipe from the Imperial soldier while lashing out with his own upward slash a second later, slicing off the soldier's arm at the elbow. Not letting the man have a chance to scream from pain Ralof pounced on him and, with their combined weight and the momentum of his leap, brought the man down to fall on his back with Ralof on top of him. Straightening himself Ralof looked on his downed opponent before raising his sword and plunging it into the soldier's heart. Even as he bleed out and gurgled on the blood rising in his throat the Imperial had tried to weakly claw at Ralof's face with his remaining hand but was stopped as Ralof forced it down with his free hand, using his other to twist his sword to speed up the soldier's demise.

It did not take long for the Imperial to stop moving, his eyes glazing over and staring at nothing as he slipped beyond the mortal plain. Rising off of the now dead soldier Ralof hurried to the second set of stairs to assist his closest ally, but found that she did not need it.

Hjolia proved to be a force to be reckoned with even when she was down to one weapon, effortlessly parrying her opponents sword slashes by using the flat side of her axe or gracefully dodging left and right to weave her way past any thrusts that the soldier sent her way. Deflecting another thrust she closed in on the Imperial and delivered a harsh backhanded strike to his right cheek but had to leap away from him when he attempted to deliver a quick jap at her exposed chest.

Deciding that enough was enough Hjolia waited until the soldier attempted another horizontal attack but instead of dodging or blocking she ran towards the oncoming attack, surprising the soldier. Appearing that she was rushing head long to her death she waited until the blade came close to meeting her before she ducked and slid underneath the attack, stretching her legs out in front of her to interlock with the Imperial's right leg, locking them together and then twisting her body to force the soldier to fall forward and land face first into the stone floor.

Disoriented by his fall the Imperial was helpless when he felt the woman untangle her legs from his before feeling a heavy weight on his back that pinned him to the floor while also feeling a hand with an iron grip seizing his sword arm and bend it till it was restrained behind him. Turning his head until he could see over his shoulder he had enough time to see that the Stormcloak rebel was the one that pinned his arm, while also raising her axe high above her. Fear filled him as he saw the axe high above his head before it came crashing down, then he felt a brief sting of pain, and then he felt nothing at all.

Satisfied in her handy work Hjolia went about dislodging her axe from behind the dead archer's head and then sprang back to her feet, ready to help her allies but found that Ralof was finished with his opponent and that so far Ragna was handling his without much difficulty.

True he had yet to fell the steel clad captain but that was not because of any lack of trying on the Reapers part, but because the captain proved to use the shield with skill every time Ragna brought his giant blade down on him. Either by pure luck or honed battle instincts the captain would somehow redirect the force of the strikes with his shield, angling it just enough at the last second so that his opponent's superior strength would not shatter his shield and instead would slide off and only graze it. But the effort of blocking the incredibly fast and powerful barrage the Reaper was assaulting him with prevented the Imperial from attacking since he now had to focus on simply defending himself and the toll of such actions were already wearing out his stamina.

"Just," *clang!* "Just what in Oblivion are you?!"

"Annoyed and pissed that you won't go down already, that's what." Ragna quipped as another of his slashes was blocked. He tried for another vertical attack after, but once again instead of ripping through wood and steel it only slid across the surface of the shield as the captain angled it to take the attack as a graze instead of head on impact. "That does it!"

His patience worn thin by the captain's constant dodging, and seeing that his opponent's shield blocked his field of vision, Ragna decided to use a technique from his now functioning Blazeblue to send a decisive strike that would end his little dance with the soldier. Rearing his freed right arm back he began to focus as much energy into it as he could manage, feeling the familiar spark of the Grimoire activating as his hand was lit aflame with black and crimson ethereal flames that raced up his fist.

 **"Hell's Fang!"**

His fist lashed forward, the black flames growing in intensity as it was moments away from being unleashed on the feeble wood and steel shield...only for the flames to never make contact with it. Mere moments before impact the flames snuffed themselves out, and when his fist smashed into the shield an intense pain spread through Ragna's right arm and pulsed in his right eye.

"Gah!"

While Ragna dealt with the intense pain he did not see that his attack still held the desired effect in shattering the captain's shield and sent him sailing back, landing with a clang on the floor and right at Ralof and Hjolia's feet. Looking at each other then back at the downed captain they both raised their weapons before bringing them down on the floored soldier, ending his life with swift efficiency. Once the deed was done Ralof flicked off the blood that remained on blade before turning to Ragna with concern.

"Ragna are you alright?"

"Yeah, just freaking peachy." Ragna grumbled. Gripping his hand into a tight fist and rapidly blinking his right eye he found that just as quick as it had appeared the pain began to subside, but he still sent a cautious glare at his right arm. 'Guess I can't use the Azure Grimoire the way I want to just yet. Dame.' "Let's just get out of here already, I'm getting sick and tired of shaking caves and pissed off soldiers. I've had enough experience with the later to last two life times."

"What about this one?" Hjolia asked as she kicked the prone form of the soldier who had been knocked unconscious by his comrades. The only response he gave after being kicked in his side was a muffled grunt before resuming the steady breathing of someone having a restful sleep.

"Leave him be for now." Ralof dismissed.

"But-"

"Look, the guy's been smacked upside the head by the pommel of a sword, and if that huge welt growing on his skull says anything it's that he'll stay out cold for a long time." Resting his sword against his shoulder Ragna began to walk away from the fallen forms of their enemies and towards the exit that had been guarded moments before. "By the time he wakes up we'll be long gone from here."

"..."

"Fine." The woman reluctantly agreed, walking away from the soldier to retrieve her second axe from the skull of the first archer she had killed, removing it with a quick yank and them swinging it to fling off any blood and brain matter to the floor.

"Lead on friend." Ralof said as he followed behind Ragna.

The exit itself looked to have been a recent addition to the cavern, having the natural stone carved away and replaced with the same grey stone bricks that compromised the keep, creating a semi-circular passage with torches lining the walls to provide light in the dark cave.

"These guys work fast, I'll give them that." Ragna mused as he inspected the quick but efficient way the passage was made. After all Hjolia had said that the cave looked to have been a recent discovery, so for the Imperial's to have constructed all the new additions in such a short time was nothing less than impressive to him.

Their walk was momentarily halted by a wooden wall that blocked their passage. Though Ragna thought that it would prove little resistance if he decided to smash his way through it he noticed that near the right there was what looked like a lever in front of the wooden obstruction. Seeing that there was nothing else that it was intended for other than the barred passage he reached and pulled the lever to activate it.

A slight *tick* was heard followed by the groaning from the wooden, indicating that the wooden obstacle would lower in a moment but instead of rising up or lowering out of sight the wooden blockage began to fall backwards, showing that the wooden construct's nature was not just to act as a temporary gate but also as a miniature draw bridge that lead to another stone passage. Just beyond the now lowered bridge Ragna could make out two basins filled with fire that illuminated another cavern just ahead, with the sound of rushing water coming from it.

"Guess we found where the stream from this room leads."

"And if we follow the stream," Ralof said as his demeanor began to brighten "Then we'll find a way out of this cavern. Hah ha! Truly the gods favor us on this day. Come on let's go!"

Ragna was the first to go forward, testing out the bridge by placing one foot on it and giving it some weight to see if it would hold. Satisfied that it did not creek or groan he crossed it at a leisurely pace, making it to the other side with no problem. Following after him was Ralof who jogged across it, eager to find the exit to the insufferable underground cavern. Once he had crossed he turned around to signal for Hjolia to do the same, but stopped when he saw the hesitation she displayed as she looked at the bridge before turning her sight to the cavern they had just come from.

"Hjolia?"

"Ralof...I'm not going,"

"What?" a confused Ralof asked.

"What?" an equally confused Ragna added.

"It's just that Jarl Ulfric could still head this way, and if he or anymore of our kinsmen do make it here someone should stay behind to lead them out of here."

"But-"

"No buts Ralof. You know that if it was you who was left behind they would do the same"

Sighing in defeat the blue clothed man decided to relent to his fellow rebel. "Fine, but just promise me that if no one shows up in an hour or two that you will follow the clues we leave for you. It would be better for you to escape than be captured by the Imperials again."

Hjolia acknowledged his request by sending a quick nod towards her blue clothed friend. "I promise Ralof. And Ragna," she said as she turned to the red coated warrior "I hope we meet again after this. You're a good man to have in a pinch, and we could use someone like you in our continued battles."

"You're pretty good in a fight too, but I can't make any promises. This war you're fighting isn't exactly mine to fight so I'll just stay out of it...for now at least." Ragna said in a relaxed manner.

"Huh, you're a little blunt but you are honest, so I can accept your choice." Smiling she sheathed one of her axes and raised her free hand in a closed fist salute over her heart to the both of them. "May Talos guide you to glory."

"And may he guide you as well." Mimicking her action Ralof returned Hjolia's farewell.

Turning away from them Hjolia walked back across the bridge, leaving Ragna and Ralof to return to moving forward towards the second cavern, but as they walked to the carved stone steps that lead down to the running stream in the center of the tunnel they felt another massive quake course through the cavern, dislodging small rocks to rain down on them from the ceiling. While they weathered out the tremor they heard a rather loud crash coming from behind them, and turning to see what had happened they saw that the bridge that had been there moments before had collapsed as a large stone had crashed through it, dislodged from the ceiling during the quake.

"Well crap. Now we have no choice but to keep moving forward even if we didn't want to." Ragna sighed as he saw the damaged bridge.

"There's nothing we can do friend but keep pushing on." Ralof said as he began to walk alongside the stream in the tunnel, following the path that the water was flowing to.

"But what about Hjolia, shouldn't we go back for her?"

"Do not worry Ragna. Hjolia is a resourceful women, she can take care of herself. As for anyone else she manages to rescue they will just have to find another way around the bridge."

Shrugging Ragna just chose to stick close to Ralof as the man continued to follow the stream, but they soon had to stop as their path was interrupted by a wall of rubble that blocked their path.

"Tch. Another dead end." the Reaper replied in an annoyed tone.

"Yep." Ralof said as he inspected the mass of stones in their way. "There's no way that we will be able to dig our way past this in time, but lucky for us," he trailed off as he turned to the right and pointed to a narrow passage that led in a different direction from the stream "We have another way past it. Come on Ragna, let's see where it leads to."

Leaving a carved arrow on one of the walls as a signal for Hjolia the two then entered the new route and marched onward, but had to pass yet another skeleton that was haphazardly lying on an elevated edge near the entrance of the passage. The boney fingers from one of its hands were stretched out to them, almost as if it was attempting to snag their clothes as they walked past it.

"Ugh. Why is there so many dammed skeletons in this place? Don't these Imperial soldiers ever clean or remove bodies that are just lying about." Ragna mumbled to himself with disgust as he walked past the long dead remains. "I mean god knows how long has that thing been down here, and with all these remains it's a miracle this place isn't haunt-, h-haunt..." A shiver ran through the Reaper's spine as her remembered the skeletal grin that the skull that rolled near his feet had sent him, and then the large amounts of skeletons that he had passed along the way. Skeletons that belonged to torture victims. Victims that may have had an intense lingering regret that could still anchor them to this world...

'Snap out of it man!' he internally yelled at himself 'There's no such things as gho-, g-ghos-, as phantoms, yeah, phantoms. So quit thinking about it and-,' "Oof!"

His train of thought (or attempt at redirecting it away from something frightening) came to a halt as he bumped into Ralof's back, who at the moment was as still as a statue while he stood in front of the exit of the passage they were in.

"Ralof what the hell? Why are you just standing there?"

"I think we have a come across a bit of a problem friend."

Wanting to see just what "problem" the blonde was talking about Ragna looked past the man's shoulder to get a view at the room ahead of them, and once he spotted what had made Ralof stop he released a tired sigh that was also laced with a hint of frustration.

Silk. Large, sticky strands of silk covered almost every inch of the small cavern ahead of them, and with cobwebs large enough to ensnare a small child or medium sized man hanging from the walls or stretching from the floor to the ceiling. Pods lined the floor of the room, some closed shut while others where burst open and looked like they held slime coated eggs within them. And hung from thick strands of silk that connected to some of the cobwebs were cocoon like objects, some ranging in size from being as large as a small dog to being just as large as an average man. What these silk like cocoons held Ragna did not know or want to find out. Hell he didn't even want to know just what had made them (though he had a pretty good idea what had done the nifty decorating around them), but for the sake of being prepared he had to ask his blue clothed ally.

"Ralof, just what am I looking at."

"This, my friend, is a spider's nest." he whispered as he readied his sword "And if we want to get to the exit on the other side and reach freedom we will have to get past them."

Ragna sighed. "I was afraid you would say that."

Taking carful steps the two emerged from the safety of the passage and into the open space of the small round cavern. Slowly, ever so slowly they began to inch their way to an exit at the upper left side of the room, taking cautious steps to avoid touching any of the taunt silk strands on the floor to avoid detection while also looking at the ceiling in case what had made the webs decided to appear. So far none had decided to crawl out from the shadows, so everything seemed to be going in their favor since they were almost at the halfway mark and had yet to encounter any trouble.

"I think we are gonna make it Ragna. We are so close to the exit I can almost taste it."

"That's great, now shut it and focus on sneaking past these strings. We don't want these things to know that we're-," No sooner had Ragna tried to wrap up his warning that Ralof came off balance and wound up nudging one of the thin strands on the floor, sending a slight, barely even noticeable vibration coursing through it. "Here." he finished in exasperation.

*click* *click click click*

One strand. Disturbing just one stupid strand was all it took to wake up the beasts that made a lair of the cavern they were in, and now not only did they know that Ragna and Ralof were there but the things were coming out to greet them.

"Perfect." the Reaper groaned.

"Ragna look out!"

Reacting to Ralof's early warning Ragna brought his blade up in a flash and impaled something that had attempted to ambush him from the ceiling. A wet crunch was heard as his giant blade skewered whatever had tried to attack him, followed by the high pitch squealing of the creature as it wiggled on his sword. Wanting to dislodge whatever it was the Reaper quickly brought his blade down like a hammer and slammed the thing on the floor with enough force to send another series of crunching noises to vibrate through the air before he reeled his blade out of the creature and took a good look at what he had just killed, and what he saw was not pretty.

It looked like the horrid love child of a tarantula and a camel spider that was pumped full of steroids till it became as big as a Pitbull. Its body was a dirty brown like color with hair covering its spindly segmented legs and thorax, with large fangs that looked more like pincers that dripped a thick vicious liquid from the tips. It also had a total of five eyes, with two large dominant eyes on either side of its head with a smaller third eye in the center of them, and the last two beady eyes were located just above the middle eye and in-between the two larger ones. All around the giant spider looked like a nightmare fuel abomination that would have put Noel into a catatonic coma if she would have been there to see it. And the worst part of this encounter? Well it was that the ugly basterd was not alone.

Four more of the pests had descended from the ceiling at the far right of the room, with two of them being the same size as the one Ragna had slain but the last two where worse. Why? Because instead of Pitbull sized the last two were the size of horses, that's why.

"There's just no rest for the wicked, is there."

Taking the initiative so that they would not be overwhelmed by numbers Ragna sprang forward and delivered a wide horizontal swipe with his great sword that he aimed at the smaller of the spiders that where crawling their way, cleanly bisecting one in two while catching the second in its face, rendering two of its eyes useless and causing it to let a pained squeal rise from its mandibles. Its cries where silenced when a second later Ragna punted it like a soccer ball right at one of the larges spiders. The smaller spider slammed into its larger counterpart with such force that it managed to flip the large spider onto its back, leaving it to squeal in indignation as it thrashed its legs to right itself, while the smaller spider-turned-projectile continued to sail through the air until it impacted with the stone wall of the cavern, a wet splat like noise followed as it turned into a red smear against the wall.

While the downed spider continued to struggle to spring back on its feet the second horse sized pest turned to Ragna and sent a glob of sticky like substance sailing towards him, forcing the Reaper to dive to the right so he could avoid whatever it had spat his way, but the spider somehow predicted such an action and sprang forward as Ragna rose to his knees, believing that a free meal was now in its reach. What it got instead of a snack was the bite of cold iron as Ragna swung his sword and slashed off its four fore legs while it sailed through the air, rolling under it at the last second so that the spider crashed against the ground while he pounced back on his feet.

Hissing in rage the spider attempted to scuttle away using its remaining hind legs, but before it could retreat it found that a very annoyed Ralof had pounced on its thorax and began to repeatedly stab it in its face, mostly around its eyes and top of its head.

"How do you like the taste of steel, huh?" he shouted as the spider tried to buck him off, but he held a firm grip on the bug by grabbing a fistful of its stringy hair to anchor himself atop it as he continued to stab it until it finally died from its injuries.

Seeing that one of the larger pests was dead Ragna turned his attention back to the one he had flipped earlier, only to come face to beady eyed face with a hairy horror. While his attention had been focused on the spider rodeo that took place the second arachnid had somehow managed to right itself and then flung itself at the nearest prey it had spied, which just so happened to be him.

"Crap!" was all he said as he brought his sword up like a shield before the hairy creature body slammed him, pinning him to the floor as it attempted to stab him with its pincer like fangs but was prevented from doing so as Ragna's great sword stood between it and its meal. "I'm getting sick and tired of looking at your ugly face!"

Unable to use his sword Ragna began to push his blade upward to lift the spider higher off of him, exposing its tender underside to the crimson coated man. With his right arm still holding the handle of the sword to keep the spider's fangs at bay Ragna brought his other fist back before shooting it upward and plunging it through the bug's exoskeleton. Squealing in pain the spider could do nothing as the Reaper continued to claw and tear at anything that his hand could reach from inside its body, ripping his hand out with a fistful of gore before he discarded it and plunged once more into the gooey insides of the arthropod.

As he continued to tear at the insides of the spider he heard Ralof unleash a battle cry as the man then lept on the spider's side and began to furiously stab it at any exposed opening, determined to help the now pinned Reaper. With one finale squeal the spider slumped down and went rigid, signaling that it had finally succumbed to the damage both warriors had caused it.

Seeing as the last of the eight legged threats was dead Ralof went about trying to budge the dead arachnid's body off of his ally, who by this point was now covered in the slain beast's slime like blood. Offering his hand Ralof helped Ragna back up to his feet as he shuffled his way from out underneath the spider.

"Gods I've always hated these dame things. Too many eyes, and those hairy legs, yeesh." Shivering in revulsion Ralof brought his attention back to Ragna. "Are you alright friend?"

"Yeah, *ptui!* Just got to get the taste of spider blood out of my mouth." he assured as he continued to spit out globs of blood that had landed in his mouth while he had been underneath the giant spider. "Let's just get out of here already. The sooner we leave the better."

"That we can both agree on."

Making their way to the far left of the spider nest they reached the exit that they had tried to reach before they were attacked and walked into another large cave that had the stream they had been following before gushing through its center and forming a small waterfall that continued to run through the center of the room. It looked a little treacherous to cross but luckily a natural formed bridged was near them that connected to the other side that they wanted to reach, seeming to have been made as the stream cut through the stone after years of erosion and flowing down its path.

Crossing the bridge they walked forward and found the first sign that this part of the cave had also been explored, the sign being a lit lantern that illuminated a small radius around them and a wooden wagon that was filled with a few discarded wine bottles. What a wagon was dong in a cave neither of them knew but they took it as a sign that they were going in the right direction, which was proven as a correct assumption when they spotted a large exit to the far left of the large cave. Ragna was about to make his way forward until he was stopped when he felt Ralof's hand on his shoulder.

"What?" he asked, a miffed at having been stopped.

"There's a bear just up ahead."

"What?"

"A bear." Ralof repeated as he pointed a little to the right of the exit "See her, right next to the entrance." Following the direction of Ralof's finger Ragna spied the sleeping form of a massive black bear that was surrounded by a pile of discarded bones of its previous meals.

"Of course there's a bear in this dame cave." Ragna grumbled in annoyance. "First it was soldiers, then freaking giant spiders, now a bear. What's next, a lion?"

"I don't know about lions but I'd rather not tangle with the likes of that beast right now, so let's just sneak around it. Take it nice and slow till we reach the exit."

"Fine."

Crouching down into a low stance the duo began to silently make their way to the exit, careful not to step on any pebbles or discarded bones that covered the ground. So far they remained undetected, but when they were just ten steps away from the entrance they saw that the beast began to stir. Stopping in their tracks they both looked to the bear to see if it had roused from its slumber, with Ragna reaching for the handle of his blade just in case, but where relieved when they saw that it was merely changing positions in its sleep, continuing to ignore them as it snored the day away. Taking the opportunity to make a clean get away they both made it to the exit and sneaked their way further in. Once they were certain that they had traveled far enough so they could not be heard they then stood up and bolted down the remainder of tunnel.

"Hey, I think I see a light up ahead." Ragan said as he raced to the exit ahead of them which was being eliminated with a slight pale glow.

"Finally. I knew we would make it."

Continuing forward the two raced out of the cave and into the waiting light of the surface world.

* * *

{Skyrim Wilderness}

Walking out into the open the first thing that Ragna did was to take a deep breath and stretch his tiered muscles until they popped.

"Dame its good to be on the outside again." Looking towards the sky the Reaper noticed that the reason that there was a pale glow illuminating the entrance was because instead of daytime it was already night, with the stars glistening in the dark sky and with twin full moons shining pale moonlight to lighten the way.

'...'

'Hold on,' Ragna thought as he looked to the skies again and, after rubbing his eyes, found that he had not been wrong and that there was in fact two moons hanging in the sky. So transfixed was he staring at the celestial bodies that he almost did not hear the roar that resonated through the night sky but remembered just what had made it and ceased to be distracted by the moons, with Ralof also sharing his thoughts.

"Quick hide!" the Stormcloak said as both he and Ragna ducked behind an assortment of large boulders just as the beast that had issued the roar flew by. It may not have been as close as it had been when it attacked the village but Ragna recognized its shape as that of the black dragon, flying to the north while roaring in victory of its slaughter. Once it was out of sight the two emerged from their hiding place and stared at where the dragon had vanished.

"Whelp, it finally flew off. Thank god." Ragna said before turning his attention to Ralof. "And I think that this is where we part ways. It's been a blast but I have to head on out and go my own way." Giving a casual wave goodbye Ragna made to leave the blue clothed man but was halted when he heard Ralof trail behind him. Sighing at the man's persistence at sticking to him like glue the Reaper turned back around to face him, an annoyed frown on his face. "What now?"

"Listen Ragna I know that you are eager to go and take your own path but this place will be swarming with Imperials soon, and seeing as you are new to Skyrim you should stick with me for a while until we get to a safer place. My sister Gerdur runs a mill in Riverwood, a small town just up the road. It's in neutral territory so the Imperial's won't be able to follow us there. I'm sure that she'll help you out if I put in a good word for you, seeing as you helped me get out of the keep in one piece, so what do you say?"

Ragna was a stunned that this man was up and offering him such hospitality despite having only known him for a few hours, but the way that the man almost beamed at the chance to repay him made it a little difficult to refuse, even if a small part of his brain that still held a few of his lone wolf tendencies told him to brush Ralof's offer away. In the end he decided that he would agree. After all he was going to have a nice shelter to sleep the night away and avoid the authorities before he went and explored the new world he landed in. It sure beat sleeping in the wilderness and risk having patrolling soldiers stumble across him...again.

In the end, and with a reluctant sigh, Ragna decided to agree with Ralof in accepting his proposal.

"Alright, I'll follow you. But come morning I'm heading out and going my own way."

"That sounds agreeable. Come on, follow me friend."

Leading the way in the moonlit path Ralof began his trek with Ragna in tow, traveling the worn dirt path that would lead them to Riverwood while keeping a steady yet quick pace in case they ran into any Imperial soldiers, but so far none were encountered.

The path was quiet, as they both chose travel in silence to avoid detection, so in their silence the only thing that was heard was the singing of crickets and the rustling of the trees that surrounded their path. But soon their winding path lead them away from dense foliage and trees and more towards a flattened road that connected to the dirt path they were traveling, replacing flattened dirt with white cobble stone that indicated that they were now traveling down a common road. Ragna would have questioned Ralof's decision in exposing themselves in such a way but stopped when he saw that the blonde stopped near a ledge that was in front of them while the path they were walking on continued to their right, descending and wounding around the cliff so that it snaked its way out of view.

"Why'd we stop?"

"Look, just up ahead, do you see it." Following his hand Ragna saw that Ralof was pointing towards a mountain off to the distance, and that sitting on top of that mountain was what looked like an ancient and long abandoned ruin, with large arches lining the front of it before it ended it what looked like a set of massive double doors.

"Okay it's a ruin. What's so special about it?"

"Those ruins are called Bleak Falls Barrow. It over looks Riverwood, though you wouldn't know it since that face of the mountain blocks it from view when you look up at it from the village." A slight shudder ran through Ralof's body before he continued. "I never understood how my sister could stand living in Riverwood with the shadow of that foreboding place hanging over them. It just feels...unnatural." Shaking off the creeping sensation that was crawling up his spine Ralof began to walk away from the ledge and lead them back to the path they were traveling on. "I guess you just get used to it in time. But enough about that place, let's keep going."

While Ralof continued to follow the descending road Ragna snuck another peek at the dark and gloomy ruins that rested on the mountain's peek, and couldn't help feel a slight shiver run up his spine, and strangely enough through his right arm as well.

"Tch. Just ignore it Ragna, it's not important." her grumbled as he felt a sense of trepidation floating in the air as he stared at the ruins. Shaking off the overwhelming feeling the Reaper went about following Ralof as he continued on the stone path. Winding his way around a bend and ending up underneath the ledge he had been standing on before he found that the blonde had not wandered far, as he stood in front of three oval like stones arranged in a semi-circle. These stones were about nine feet tall and appeared to have a circle carved through them near the top of their peaks, with an intricate and decorative band carved around the circular hole. But the most curious thing about them was that underneath the hole of all three stones was a carved drawing that encircled what looked like a constellation of stars.

Each of the stones had a different picture to go with their constellation, with the left having the picture of a hooded man holding twin daggers, seeming to be caught mid leap and hunched over to land on his feet. The middle stone had the image of a robed man as its carving, sporting a long wizard like beard and waist length hair while holding a staff in his left hand. The last stone to the right had a carving that was much simpler in design, as it was the image of a horn helmed warrior who held aloft a double-handed axe in his right hand while raising a round shield in his left, shielding his face from some unknown attack. Curious as to what these stones were Ragna neared Ralof as the blonde continued to analyze the carvings they held.

"Hey Ralof, what are these?"

"These, my red clothed friend, are the Guardian Stones. Three of the thirteen standing stones that dot Skyrim's landscape, each depicting a different Tamrielic constellation and its assigned image carved into its ancient stone."

"Okay," Ragna drawled out as he raised one of his eyebrows from the quick explanation. "What the hell do they do?"

Ralof scratched his head in slight embarrassment while he racked his brains on what he remembered about the mysterious standing stones. "Well it's uncertain just what they are actually meant to do, but legends say that in times long since passed these stones would grant powers to the mightiest heroes of yore, giving them the ability to traverse adversity and rewrite their fates." He shrugged in slight amusement as he continued to stare at the stones. "Of course that's just legends, and most people now just take pilgrimages to pay homage to the different constellations that they depict." Rubbing his chin in amusement Ralof looked to Ragna as an idea crossed his mind.

"Hey Ragna why don't you go and touch one of the stones?"

"Me? Why?" The Reaper questioned with a raised brow.

"Well some people say that the stones call on the one most closest to their constellation, so why don't you go and see if it's true. I tried it once but nothing happened, so maybe with you it could have a different reaction. Probably."

"Pass." Ragna dismissed "The last time I got dragged into something like this I wound up losing a good chunk of my arm." 'Of course I got a replacement, but I ain't taking any chances now that Kokonoe isn't here to patch me up.'

"Huh?"

"Nothing to worry about, but back to the point. I'm not touching them." Ragna said as he began to walk the trail again, but he did not get far when Ralof stopped him.

"What's the matter; scared?"

"Like hell!" Ragna shouted as he turned and stomped his way back to the stones. He may have gotten a bit wiser after all he experienced in his journey to end Terumi, but if there was one thing that could always set Ragna's old temperamental attitude to spark again it was calling him weak or scared of anything. Also with all the things he had to fight in one day he was at the end of his patience. "Fine. If it will shut you up I'll touch one of them."

Standing in front of the stones he began to analyze them and tried to feel which he felt more comfortable with. He looked to the left and thought he felt a tugging sensation when he saw the hooded carving, believing that it might stand for rouges and rebels, but dismissed it since it did not feel..."right". The same was said with the wizard like carving, he felt a tug but it wasn't strong or convincing, so he left it. When he turned to the right stone he felt...something. He couldn't describe it with words, just that it felt like the image of the stalwart warrior raising his shield in defiance seemed to resonate something in him.

This one, he thought. This was the stone meant for him.

Carefully Ragna reached his right hand out and placed it on the cool stone, and waited for something to happen. And lo and behold...it did absolutely nothing.

"Tch.I knew it, what a load of crap." withdrawing his hand Ragna starred annoyingly at the stone in front of him.

"Hmm. Guess they are just plain old rocks." Ralof mused when he saw that they did nothing spectacular.

"Let's just leave alr-." Whatever dismissal Ragna was about to say was silenced when a faint blue glow began to spread through the carved image of the warrior, slowly illuminating every carved line before it set the points that represented the stars of the constellation it encircled aflame with an azure glow. Surprised by this turn of events Ragna and Ralof stared with wide eyes as the glow began to increase in intensity before traveling to the hollowed circle at the top of the stone, where the azure light began to take the form of a bright burning star. With each passing second the ball increased in size and intensity, illuminating everything in a ten foot radius with a deep azure glow, before it reached the peak of its limits and-like a rocket-shot into the air and illuminated the night sky blue like the beacon of a mighty tower. But just as quick as the phenomenon had happened it snuffed itself out, leaving only a faintly glowing stone and a gob smacked Ragna and Ralof in its wake.

"What...was that?" Ragna said after some time.

"Your guess is as good as mine friend."

After a few more minutes the duo snapped out of their respective trances and once again focused on the situation at hand.

"I think it's time we split."

"Agreed, let me lead friend."

And just like that the duo continued on their path to the quiet town of Riverwood, not knowing that what they witnessed would be an omen of what would come in the later years, or the significance of the azure flare that was sent to the heavens.

* * *

{Riverwood: Gerdur's House}

[Gerdur's Point of View]

Inside of this quaint little cottage nestled in the quaint town of Riverwood was a woman who was well respected by the community, and too many was seen as a pillar of strength and confidence to those who knew her. But now, due to the news she received as of two days ago, held the appearance of being in a nervous wreck. Her once tidy blond hair was as tangled as a bird's nest, and hey eyes had heavy bags underneath them from the restless nights she had had. The constant pacing back and forth she was doing in her nightgown also served to show just how restless she was.

This woman was Gerdur, Ralof's sister, and right now she was in distress at the fate that may have befallen her brother.

"Oh divines, please let him be okay. At least send me a sign that he's fine..."

"Gerdur." a tired voice called out.

"A note, a letter, I'll even settle for a leaf sign from Kyne..."

"Gerdur."

"I'll even settle for a-."

"Gerdur!" the voice called out with more force.

Turning to the person speaking she found that it had come from her husband, Hod. He was a tall and broad man, easily dwarfing most everyone in the village, with slicked back blonde hair and an intimidating face, but his size and ever-present blank expression were often overlooked by the bushy handle-bar mustache he had on his face that gave him the appearance of a sleepy horker. He was a kind man who held a lot of patience, but as of now that patience was almost wearing thin as his wife refused to sleep, even now that it was well past waking hours.

"I'm sorry love but it's just that, j-just that..." she began to say, her voice quivering and the threat of fresh tears emerging shown by the buildup of water near the corner of her eyes. Seeking to prevent another outburst (and possibly wake their sleeping son) Hod hopped out of bead and headed to console his wife in a massive hug.

"Listen my little flower, everything will be alright."

"H-How can you say that when what we heard two days ago." She said as she tried to muffle her sobs in her husband's chest. "They said that Ulfric was caught, and that Ralof was with them. How do I know that he's still alive when no one knows what's happening in Helgen."

"Listen my little flower, he's fine. Your brother has been in worse situations and made it through, so he will make it through this as well. You'll see."

Before she could question her husband's certainty on the matter they both heard a knock at the door, which was strange since everyone should be asleep at this time of knight.

"Dibella's tits," Hod groaned in annoyance, "Who could it be at this gods forsaken hour."

Wiping away what stray tears she had Gerdur began to walk towards the door, leaving her husband to follow behind her.

"I'm coming." she said as another trio of knocks were heard. "Yes, yes I said I'm coming."

Opening the door she was ready to give quite the tongue lashing to whoever was banging on her door at this hour but whatever harsh jab she had prepared died in her throat when she saw who waited for her just beyond the threshold.

He was a tall man, almost as tall as her husband, who had skin as pale as snow and with a mane of spiky hair to match his skin tone. He had heterochromatic eyes, with the right being a burning crimson and the left a jolting emerald, with an annoyed growl plastered on his lips. His clothes were ripped and torn, from his charred shirt to his shredded pants, with the exception being a pair of belts around his waist and a strange crimson coat that was decorated with black belts and two tails trailing behind him. But what frightened her most from this stranger was the massive iron great sword he had slung at his waist, a great sword that dripped a few specks of fresh blood.

"Are you Gerdur?" he questioned in a low tone. All she could do was give a blank stare as he continued to tower over her. "I'll take that as a yes."

As he turned around she thought that he would reach for his sword and was prepared to slam the door on him, but she went as still as stone when she heard what he whispered behind him."

"Oi, Ralof, she's home. Get your ass over here."

Emerging from an inconspicuous bush that had not been in her cow's pen earlier she saw a blonde haired man emerge from it, brushing off stray twigs that clung to his hair and tossing away the uprooted foliage so he could run to the door.

"Thank the divines you were here. I don't think I would have been able to sleep in that bush till you returned in the morning."

All Gerdur could do was stare as she saw the very man who she was all but mourning a few moments ago. His blonde hair, blue eyes, and the smug, almost carefree smile that he gave her only proved who he was.

"Ralof?"

The smile that he gave her at hearing his name was all the confirmation she needed from the man.

"Aye. I'm home little sister."

Gerdur flung herself into her brother's wide opened embrace, crushing her larger sibling in a spine snapping bear hug with strength that belied her small frame.

"It's you! It's really you!" she cried in happiness, but sprang back as a million questions floated in her mind. "B-But how did you escape? What of Jarl Ulfric?"

"Gerdur." Ralof attempted to talk, but was silenced by another barrage of questions.

"A-And what about everyone else? Where you followed? And just who," she said as she pointed a finger to the frightening form of the red coated man standing behind Ralof "Is he?"

"Gerdur, Gerdur." Ralof soothed as he tried to calm his sister. "Listen all I can answer now is that I'm safe and back home. And he," he said as he wrapped an arm around the mystery man's shoulder, but failed to notice the slight grimace on the man's face at being grouped in a hug. "Is Ragna, and if it wasn't for him I wouldn't be here talking with you now."

Standing tall and releasing his new friend Ralof sent another smile as he continued to calm his sister's frantic mind. "Listen, I promise that I will answer any questions you have, but they will have to wait until the morning. My friend and I have been running and fighting for the better half of the day and we need to rest before we head out. So what do you say little sister, can you let us in."

Gerdur smiled at her brother's request. "Of course Ralof but," she added as she sent a steeled glare at her brother, but was seen as less threatening by the pout that came with it. "You **will** tell me everything in the morning, and you won't leave a single detail out, understand."

"I understand sister." Ralof laughed at his sister's antics.

"Good. Now hurry up and get inside before a guard sees you."

Stepping to the side she allowed both her brother and her companion to enter her home before closing and locking the door.

"Hod, break out some extra furs and blankets for my brother and his friend. I'm sorry that we don't have enough room to give the two of you a bed."

The now named Ragna gave a small grunt before having a small tired smile grace his features as he was handed a blanket. "Lady, after the day we had a blanket and a warm roof to sleep under is a luxury."

"Well rest up, because tomorrow the both of you will tell me just what happened in Helgen."

After receiving their bundles of furs and blankets the two tired warriors went to drop all of their equipment at the left corner of the cottage before settling the furs on the fur to make makeshift beds before slumping in them to rest, Ralof snoring like a cave troll and his pale ally sleeping face first in the furs like a log.

Hod hopped back into bed with Gerdur following suit, blowing out the candle near the bed side table to plunge the home into darkness. And for once after two hectic days the once wound up woman had a restful and blissful sleep.

* * *

{Riften}

[? Point of View]

It had been risky, he knew, but he had had no choice. Under no circumstances did he ever venture to the surface of Riften after he isolated himself to the damp recesses of the Warrens, but he was left with little options, seeing as he had run out of wine and the preserved food that he usually sustained himself with that he would regularly have delivered to him.

Normally he would have transactions with Vekel in the Ragged Flagon to hire someone to bring his monthly provisions, but by the time that he went to do another business deal he had found that the man had been called away by Maven for some reason, and he did not trust any of the other occupants of that thieves den to handle this delicate matter, so with great reluctance did this tired old man done a hood and cloak and ventured to the Riften markets late at night to purchase what he needed.

True that around this time of night most people would be asleep rather than making purchases or selling their wares, but here in Riften money talks, and if one jingles their purse loud enough someone is bound to open their doors and sell to you. Or steal your coin purse, but that's why he always carried a dagger with him at all times in this cess pool of a city. 'You could never be too careful.' he thought to himself.

Finishing his latest grocery list he paid the vendor a fistful of septums before hauling his goods over his back and, with great haste, raced back to the confines of his home. He did not stop to talk or even send a glance at the guards who performed what was laughably called patrols, instead keeping his head low and scurrying his way down to the lower sections of the docks to reach the gates of the sewers that would lead home. He was so close to his destination but before opening the gate he did something that he thought he would never do in this city: he stopped.

It wasn't that he was frozen in fear or had second thoughts about his current living situation, but because the sky above was lit by a bright azure light that flashed through the heavens. The phenomenon happened so quick that by the time that he had looked to see what had caused it all that remained as a quickly disappearing trail of blue and wisp like after trail that blew away with the breeze.

Though he thought it a strange sight he dismissed the phenomenon and then went back to making his way home. It only took a few minutes to slip past most of the rabble that lived in the sewers, and easier to make it to the Warrens, and before he knew it he was safe behind the confines of his impenetrable door and safe guarded by the locks and bolts that served him daily. Satisfied that he hand returned in one piece, this old man dropped his bag of provisions then stretched his back and released a tiered yawn. An act that he regretted.

Most people would take yawing as a sign that it was time to partake in the wonderful act of sleeping, bur he had not felt it as so. Quite the opposite he had been trying to stave off as much sleep as he could because he found more security in the waking world than the constant nightmares that plagued his sleeping hours. Well, nightmare, since it was the same recurring dream that prevented him from gaining a good night's rest. But alas, the body can go only so long without sleep before it crashes and burns, and his old body was no exception.

His lids were already heavy, and due to the energy he wasted in gathering his supplies and avoiding detection his movement was now becoming sluggish, to the point that he saw it as a miracle that he had properly functioned in this nights acquisition of his provisions, but now he knew that try as he might the realm of dreams would now claim him.

So, with a heavy heart, did this poor soul sulk to his bed and fall into the comforting furs, but the overwhelming dread of what he would dream of echoed in his mind before his drifted to sleep.

* * *

{Dreamscape}

A hundred times he had had this dream, and he believed he would have it a hundred more. A hundred times did he find himself alone at the top of a barren mountain, with a vast field stretched before him and yet the view still took his breath away. A hundred times did he lower his head, waiting for the looming darkness to shadow him, but still did it send him into despair. A hundred times did he hear the beating of mighty wings above, strong enough to create maelstroms, but still the fear he felt was as fresh as the first time he had heard them. A hundred times did he stair up to find a great beast flying above him, but the hopelessness he felt still rang as fresh as it did now. A hundred times did he have this dream...but now something was amiss.

He could not place it at first as continued to stare at the beast that flew above him, but it soon became clear what was out of place in his dream.

The sun. The sun was not darkened.

In every dream that he had he would envision he would be standing facing towards the sun only for his world to be plunged into darkness as the great wings of the flying terror would blot it out. But now, even with a sea of black clouds in the sky, the sun still shone as instead of facing towards the sun the poor soul now had his back towards it, which left the beast flying high above him to be left exposed as the dim rays of the sun illuminated its once shadowed form.

Before he could question the significance of it all he felt a massive tremor resonate through the mountain and the valley, so great that mountains far off in the distance crumbled down from its force, yet the one he stood on held firm and unyielding.

This massive quake did not go unnoticed as another divergent of the dream appeared, this time due to the flying monster taking its sight away from him...and looking beyond.

With shaking knees did the man force himself to turn and follow the monster's flaming gaze, to see what had disturbed its conquest, and what he found...was unbelievable.

'Sweet Divines...'

A mountain, far taller than any insight, and made from a solid mass of blackness stood behind them. No, saying that it was black would have been an understatement. It was more fitting to say that the mountain was not the color black but composed from the very essence of shadows and nothingness, of the intangible wisps of darkness made tangible. He thought that it may have seemed so because the sun was behind it and was casting an illusion on it, a trick of the eye that could be dispelled if he moved to a different position, but no matter what way he would view it from it did not dispel the mass of shadows or reveal stone beneath it. There was another tidbit about the mountain that cemented the fact that it was no mere illusion or inanimate formation of stone; it was breathing.

He did not know how he could tell, but he knew that the large black mass was alive. Then the ground began to tremble.

Slowly, ever slowly, the large mass of black shadows and wisp like tendrils began to stir, shaking the mountain, but as whatever the mass of darkness was began to fully awaken it began to increase its shaking until it was all but thrashing against the earth, violently shaking the ground over and over again, threatening to collapse the mountain that the old man stood on while it sent a literal blanket of ash and dust to fly into the sky from the torn and ravaged earth below it, blocking the sun's rays by the amount of dust and ash it spewed out ward while hiding it away in a veil of darkness.

He did not know what it was, or why it was there, but even when the living mountain of shadows and darkness was hidden behind its veil he still felt the bone shattering tremors that shook the land as it moved. Then...they stopped.

He believed that perhaps that was the end of the mountain.

 **"GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!"**

But it was proven that he had guessed wrong.

Emerging from the curtain of ash and smoke was something that sent a new wave of fear through the poor soul's body, because it was something that he had never thought he would see.

A second monster, with skin as black as night and fangs and teeth a hellish red, emerged from the shadows. Its body easily towered over the largest of mountains, and its mouth was massive enough to swallow five men whole, but what was most frightening was that it was not the only one to emerge. Whatever the new beast was had another head emerging to its right and two more from its left, all sharing the same crimson eyes and glowing red tower sized teeth, but at the center of the heads emerged another head, but that was vastly different to the others.

While it still had the black skin and bloody red teeth, this head was larger than the others, and sported a pair of large, gleaming white horns while its eyes were different, with its right eye the same blood red as the others while its left eye was an eerie green.

All the poor soul could do was stand there, paralyzed with fear, as he saw that both of the towering beasts took an interest in one another, but by the growls they were sending each other it was not because they viewed themselves as equals. It only took a fraction of a second, a blink of an eye, and before he knew it the two beasts moved to engage each other, a colossal behemoth that raced forward and crushed all in its path, against a titian of the sky, who brought fury and flame to smite it's foe.

He did not know why the dream had changed, or what it meant. All this poor soul did know was that at this very moment he was watching what could only be a battle between gods, and he prayed that whoever came out the victor would be satisfied in its kill. If it was not then Divines help him.

Clashing to and fro each of the beasts utilized each of their strengths to try and dominate the other, with the multithreaded behemoth using its size and reach to attempt to snatch the flying titan from the sky, using its smaller heads to lash out and snap at it whenever it would attempt to dive bomb it, and the titan utilizing on its ability of flight to dart back and forth, sending razor sharp talons and a sea of flame from its maw to attack its foe, only for the flames to slide off the behemoth's hide like water sliding off of oil and its talons only managing to graze the flesh of its much larger foe.

Back and forth the battle continued, with the earth crumbling below while the heavens above darkened and wailed with fury. The very land seemed to be participating in this battle, tearing itself apart like the two beasts in front of the old man.

Just as both beasts readied themselves for a finale confrontation, with the dark behemoth readying to pounce upward while the flying titan readied to dive at its enemy from the sky, the old soul who was witnessing this battle blinked, and then the world was returned to darkness.

* * *

{Riften: Ratway Warrens}

Waking with a start the old soul who lived in his isolated corner of the warren sprang from his bed, frantically looking to the left and right of his room, trying to see if the two monsters from his dreams had followed him to the waking world and was satisfied to see that they had not.

Trying to relax his frantically beating heart the old soul got up from the furs of his bed and ran to the corner of his room that held the tomes he had diligently studied so many nights before and plucked the weathered book he had studied two nights prior. Flipping through the pages at an unheard of rate he began to scan every page and every inch of its weathered parchment, but began to grow ever frustrated when he did not find whatever was eluding him.

Flipping through the pages a second time yielded the same result as the first, and so with a tired sigh the old soul put down the book and stared to the moss ridden ceiling above him.

"Divines, what did that dream mean?"

The roof gave no answer to his question, but the old soul was already beginning to form his own answer to his inquiry.

Something has occurred that has changed the coming tide of fate, but whether it would result in salvation or destruction only the future would tell.

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Hello guys. Sorry about the two month waiting period but some personal things came up and I got side tracked with work, so much that I had few chances to go to my town's library to type out this chapter and to also double check to make the flow of dialogue go in the way that I hope came out to your viewing pleasure. So again sorry for the wait but I hope that the near 130-ish pages of this chapter can make up for the time. Also, in case you guys got a little confused at the end, I meant that it had been two days since Ragna and the Stormcloak prisoners were captured, not how long it had taken Ralof and Ragna to get to Riverwood. Just to clear any confusion. Now...ON TO THE REVIEWS! [Dramatic cape fluttering]**

 **kalakauai:** **[sips tea while reclining in a lazy-boy chair] Yes, indeed.**

 **ArmantusCumPinnae:** **Thank you for the good vibes you're sending my way dude. Also the exposition was to help anyone who got confused with the first few games understand where the story of Blazblue started and ended (For now at least), but I understand where you are coming from. Also I do solemnly swear that there is plenty more to come after this. :-)**

 **silversean24:** **Like I said in our PM's Bloodscythe will not be with Ragna for this journey. Our crimson clad badass will have to rely on the starting weapons (Iron Greatsword in his case) for now and work his way up to more durable weapons by either salvaging them from slain enemies or buying them from smiths and traders. I do have a few of the unique swords from Skyrim in mind that he could find to replace Bloodscythe, but that will be for later, but if you (or any of the readers) have a suggestion you can leave a review or PM me to give your opinion on which you believe he should get as his new weapon.**

 **Noival:** **Glad that I was able to pique your interest friend.**

 **PhatomRPG:** **Thank you for the review, now onto your questions.**

 **First and foremost I want to make it clear that even though Ragna went with Ralof and assisted in helping him escape from Helgen it does not mean that he will join the Stormcloak's cause. It was a circumstantial situation that had him side with him, and had I written it the other way around he could have easily sided with Hadvar. For now think of it as Ragna siding with him to have some assistance before he goes his own way in the next chapter, and remaining neutral for the most part of the story. Though this does not mean that he won't meddle in a few affaires that affect both sides. It will only be later on in the story that Ragna will be forced to choose one or the other side, but who he will side with is still up in the air for me to decide.**

 **As for your second question, I do have in mind that he will join the Companions, but that will be later on. For now he will lone wolf his way through a few encounters before earning their attention. Will they follow him? For some missions yes, others no. As for modded followes, well maybe Inigo, but I'm still debating whether I should include him, since I want to keep this story as close to vanilla as possible, only adding a few OC's as enemies or to add more faces to the holds of Skyrim (because even though I love the game I have to admit that the holds were less inhabited than from previous games like Oblivion or Morrowind, who had more npc's to fill the towns and markets). I hope this helps answer your questions friend.**

 **Wlyman2009:** **Thank you for the positive feedback and I promise that I will.**

 **Translations**

 **[Fus Ro Dah]*: ["Force Balance Push"]- the three words that compose the Unrelenting Force shout. The first and second words of this shout are used to stagger enemies in combat, becoming more powerful with the addition of the second word. It is with the addition of the third word that turns the shout from a powerful push to a deadly weapon, causing the weilder to create a powerful blast of air that is fatal in close range and can send enemies flying away at medium to long range.**

 **[Zu'u lost daal]*: ["I have returned"]**

 **[Toor Shul]*: ["Inferno Sun"]-the last two words for the Fire Breath shout. Enables the weilder to spew forth a stream of flames from their mouth which increases in intensity with the addition of other words of power.**

 **[Hin sil fen nahkip bahloki]*: ["Your soul will feed my hunger"]**

 **[Vol Toor Shul]*: ["Horror Inferno Sun"]- a more powerful version of the Fire Breath shout that has flames that can melt even the strongest of metals.**


End file.
